Snakeskin, a new piece up at A Minor. Sheesh, isn't that what the title says? Nothing like being depleted of all creativity on a Monday afternoon.
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I'm fresh out of happy, fucked up, mouth-slappin' words. A poem will have to do -- by someone else.
Traces, Fine Bird Prints
traces, fine bird prints
above the tide line
do the grains of sand recall
compressing tight to make that shape
or loosening in the new arrangement?
even after waves, somewhere,
my cells remember how it was
your track etching
-- Lilian Mohin
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