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A Sleeve for Doubt

This poem presents a contemplative stance on subtle experiences in life. It is a piece regarding the fractured relationship between two people and how often the moments of that given relationship impacts our skin.

sometimes i wonder:

if the crumbs collecting

on grit makes itself present

in people’s words —

whether the cleft of

our mouths taste like granite;

or whether we can plunge

ourselves in mother’s milk

to protect us from

waned streets;

i lied and said they were worthless

the rush of sour phrases

often i wonder if salt

has wedged into the back of

our throats

lemon sliced, tender

acrid smell coalesced with

softened mutters;

the pestle glides on

my lap —

i don’t even know if it worked

whether i left you enough

gristle to fulfill your desire —

to stuff side-swept deliberation:

i like to do this in a number of ways —

one, two, three

love no longer inhabits this body

we cradle red-wood language

and plant them near cherry trees;

but today

our skin lays molten

and carves metal out of ocean currents

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