deepundergroundpoetry.com

Liebe. Love. Amour. Love.

I get glimpses of it in my chest
it feels like a warm pulse of sickness,
a change starting,
like a wound that isn't raw, but
content.

It's how I imagine the transition back to
breathing amniotic fluid would be.


Oh.

Learning, in the safety of someone else's
closed eyes.
Written by jadielue (Jade.)
Published
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