lips on throat like hot
nectarines, sugared & wilting;
snared rabbit. ribs hollow as a church
on tuesday, flowers forgetting sunlight & turning their heads down at
your face, gently thudding
the blood into my skull- heavy, Heavy heavy as your hands on the edge of my exhaustion, pulling the needs
out of my body, putting them in a blood-stained napkin for later
-lynnea // ode to Thanatos
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churchyardgrim 