don’t dream whisper
you’re not allowed
frogs simmer there
snails wander shell less

weeds seize tired wrists
crows scream fresh secrets
felt skies rain nothing
wind blows fire alive

skip rocks along slick skin
fold fingers into paper cranes
stack rock hips into towers
push rooting eyes open

split tight gravel wide
drop moss in waves
bleed sudden into green
flood my quiet throat

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*63/100: For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing and posting a poem every day. All photos are mine.