by Felicia Zamora A body lies Outside this body Turns in, to pod Then out, to seed Reconfigures bloom Dries and falls Again again My nail polish shades Antique Bridal Gown to Romeo and Juliet Brown The color of oak Against a pale December snow Dots on dots Portholes in the white All this color- Less air, touch Hot breath on panes How much can we paint Over, before we Recognize bark As bark
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