Non-Erotic PoetrysplinterI am the luckiest girl in the world,
no one would know it of course
because that is how it usually goes
behind heavy doors
upon cold steel
or down pillows
after pronouns have fallen
into sleep
and silence
we jump off splintered docks
iron oxide nail stains
tannic acid brown skin
tastes of fish milt
released over egg masses
kicking sole flapping
summer stained chuck taylors
over flat dock peninsula
into quieter waters
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English
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