cotton

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I scrubbed my feet clean and

braided my hair and

waited in my nightgown for you. 

I am waiting to stretch my skin out over your

bongo drum,

to smoke your sweet clay pipe and

curl around your earlobes.

I want to leave stains of poetry in your sheets,

smeared ink and other left-behind bits of me. 

You’re a little shadow on the moon,

you’re coming soon to tear down all the trees and 

leave me burnt.

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