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bluebell wanderings // the clouds were falling from the sky

By Elana Waite

bring me down to earth

with your sour mouth of morning dew

breath bouncing from the back of the throat

into me, into me

spotted sundress

daylight moon

crescent reflecting on crispness

that fleshy sweetness longing to be grazed

i’ll let you break me at the core

twist me into knots

pick me, pick me

press me into your earth

watch me bloom

an anomaly amongst rows of conference and smith

me, blooming and blooming

ever and after


how long?


long like the summers before there was something else to long for

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