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Patina
I am alone.
I fry sage. I swallow
a moth. I swallow
a spooked mare. The night
is a velvet shawl
with rhinestones—
anything can be
erotic. See?
I chew on bits
of abalone,
blood writes
my face.
Hard light.
A coniferous
forest once
winked
at me. It took
time, but I learned
I am the entire
forest.