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The Gardener Sadie Konecney

40
Garret 2020
Skin

I left the boiled milk too long unstirred.


It simmered in the pot then fell asleep.
Grew a shell, like an egg, more like honey.
It wrinkled when I went to take a sip.

But it stayed–lives under my fingernails.


I peel it back from my lips ‘til it bleeds.
Sink teeth into it in want of ripe fruit.
Rip it sometimes, when a mosquito stings.

Don’t worry, it stays, not always the same. Two Miserable Cousins
Won’t grow back that way twice, look at it change. Utah Boggs
Won’t feel the same either, not to the touch.
When you grow old, you won’t feel it as much.

Clara Rabbani

Bookmark Adib Rabanni

41

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