Sarah A

February 10, Brooklyn, NY
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he hears me when I don’t even say a word.

secret messages
drip out
of each of my

he sucks them up
eats them whole
swallowing them like seeds

my words become rooted in him
and he uses them
to grow a garden

his marble skin cracks
and my flowers sprout
filling the spaces

turning his stone cold winter skin
into a warm summer’s day
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