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lynn

2022-03-23 11:45 am
I smear vaseline in the corners of my mouth with a cotton swab to seal the cracks that are carved there
from smiling too wide
from laughing too loud
from speaking my mind.

I smudge the nails on my hands with paint, pearlescent and pink
to keep from moving
to keep from creating
to keep from fully living.

I confine myself to an apple and egg whites each day to mold by body
into what I see in waiting room magazines
into what it was when I was a child
into something impossible.

how futile, it seems, to meter my joy, to suppress the wind.
because, when one tries to obstruct what rightfully will pass,
it gains strength, channels down one slim canyon,
and blows everyone away.

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lynn

2020-03-10 01:22 pm
if you round up, i am a lesbian.
if you round down, i am still a lesbian, just a little less.

do you know if love has a definition, an concrete interpretation?
how do i explain the terror in my chest when i look in your face?

i do not know what it feels like to love and be loved.
unconditionally, that is.

i imagine that not all kisses go well.
would you like to test that hypothesis?

of course i am honest with you.
what other choice do i have?

this is more sincere than poetry.
anything could be more sincere than poetry.

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