Your aura is deep green like Waldmeister
Communist era forest soda
more tart & attainable maybe probably not full of green dye
numbers 1-5
Yeah, I know… I haven't forgotten our grand plan
to fashion chastity belts from whatever leftover longing &
primeval guilt we could find
while we wait to marry our pasts
Ghosts can afford to be generous because they know we need them
& their shackles to help accessorize our ancient pain
Then you breathe in my direction… I imagine us falling onto
into
a bed of moss which also doubles as a trampoline for faeries
my braid wound around your wrist of birch like a lithe brown snake…
Someone should tell Cupid butterflies belong on bushes right?
Not in our second hearts
Poor ethereal insects awash in fluid feeling
Thank you for your sacrifice
Hope it's worth all that's delicate…
If we were butterflies,
would you notice
me shining ultraviolet at the chitonous corners
of your stained glass wings?
Lovely shape shifter with specimen books
filled with our kind
please know you didn't catch me
I flew right into your summer
& pinned myself to the golden board of all the new still fluttering finds...
-Stefanie Low
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