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Green

and we laugh

through the citrus sores

tongues and cheeks raw with exclamations

madly cackling and howling

feet soaking in the pooled mania


One night we danced

until our limbs were loose in their hinges

no longer blending our silhouettes into the quiet shadows

but shouting with pastel skirts

catching the winds

mighty sails, we were

pushing forward the bow into the endless blue.

We were green

with boots much too heavy for our porcelain ankles

days and days

each slithering slower than the last

clawing to keep the night at bay

the sun no longer wishing to lend its light

to the hollow moon

oh, those days were hard

sailing wet on the splashing seas

how we craved the storm

to weather our stiff-fitting forms

and soften the leather of our shoes

all the better for waltzing, we thought

the swing would cure our scurvy.

so when the moon finally had the sun on the ropes

we threw our last punches

and swung ourselves into the strings

plucked to match the ocean

pounding on the hull.

and we laughed

as his skin hardened

oranged by the sun’s forceful kiss

we drank the acid

and watered down our hopes

of ever finding land.