Wednesday, March 6, 2019

fire and water don't mix

Subtle jostling,
The room’s female half,
Rolls up on itself,
Ferns slowly twirling back upon themselves,
legs twisting into
Compact pirouettes,
Shoulders slimming
So as not to skim
The suit-hems of their stronger neighbors,
Spreading their legs wider than the seat chair,
Arms bumping,

There’s no space for you here.
Curl up on yourself

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