Emily

I spilt the dew /
but took the morn /
I chose this single star.

through a window
rope
loops itself around
ginger cakes

I split the dew/
but took the morn/

through the window
shoulders
spill like cinnamon milk
from a white blouse

I split the dew/

through this window
nobody
sees blue-stained hand slip
into blue-stained skirt

I split-

nobody sees
Sue
a thigh, a wink
at a time

I-  

hope is a thing with- 

fingers.

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