Molting

James Long
Jan 20, 2023
1 min read

The skin of past lives are stifling

Desert-dead and bloodless.

I dreamt

of digging a well right through my flesh

to tap the spring.

How childlike is touch in its destruction

Shuff

and the shroud was rubbed off

just

Dust

In the currents of sunlight

how like dancing stars they shone

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