Her:

laugh a lot at parties,
a peal. a peal. a peal.
layers to throw over December,
muffling

meridian lining
none here
save amusement cavernous
enough to quiet in.
no sun for shadows, no buckets for water,
just the pale of my back
a tiny little moon
waning.

tip my chin up,
a peal. a peal. a pe(t)al.
your flowers in my throat,
d(r)ying.

Him:

DAY 12

Posted by:jasmine

Jasmine is an editor, poet, and community arts organizer. She comes to poetry by way of Chinese music. This blog is a mapping of ways.

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