dry eye

here is a smattering of your dignity

there is not a dry eye in the place

your perseverance has made addicts of all

of them

you’re such a phoenix

making your own ashes

trying to glue yourself together

again

-sheila c.

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of me

i follow your voice to the morning

and i rise with the small hairs

on the crook of your neck.

i stay there

and sit quietly

with your freckles.

they mirror mine

but i don’t think it’s strange..

someone must’ve

pulled us apart

before we were flesh.

– sheila c.