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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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