desert / bones

as my fingertips skim

the round edges of my

collarbone, at times

plunging into the hallowed

depths of my organic frame.

there are creases, and folds

wrinkles and bends; kept

afloat by supple flesh and

brittle bones. i am reminded of

dessert streams, thirsty for

rain. my body a

perennial drought

for a winter that

never came.

 

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