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Elastic Moods

By Salonee Gupta

If you pass two fingers 

up the front of my ribs,

you’ll feel me take my breath in

 

And when you reach it;

a soft sticky pounding 

sweaty like a heart

that’s only learning how to beat

 

The air between my ribs 

changes like the seasons

sometimes it’s wildflowers;

warm with stories 

sometimes a hurricane

blue- inside of me

 

But every time-

this sticky lump 

thinks its got it right

you throw me so far away from myself

 

And so I look for words

they’re all I’ve ever had

 

And maybe

they’ll bring me back,

to me.


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