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“Confessions Over Tea”

Confessions Over Tea


Baby left rime

Round the edges of infinity

Disguised as pearls

And hanged herself

From your apartment door


She froze concave, then

Planting arrows, whispering

Paper moth wings

Behind your eyes


There was so mystery

There was no knight, nor notice

She wants to stay

Like a ring around the drain


But you didn’t mind

This was sheer brilliance

In your tea cup


I didn’t write this poem, it was written “to me,” for lack of a better explanation. I like it a lot and it makes me sad because the friend who wrote it is no longer among the living. The feature image is also not my art, but theirs. I felt like the two “complimented?” each other in the worst way.

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