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by Sara Matson  

curled down the
barrel of a ghost
gun      perplexing all the
pretty dead in their
lilac button downs +
dreamy sensuality
            joined at the     blonde head
            spring from shoulder
            (padded bliss)
glass antiquities +
nuance wrapped
in silver shaped intimidation
blurring the days edges
            an unscented serenade
            of the obscene
zero gravity
sliced thru nailbeds in
neon cubes (backlit) +
living in some miracle gel

even post life
fevered snakeskin taught
sunburn and its fluorescent

crust to calm
            wrapped delicately in
            baby eyelids
butter soft +
endangered at the root

even from across the room

            i understood

envy is a subtle ruffle

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