Every footstep
You meet with
Your foot
Kicking it
Pull your fingers
Into your cheeks
The air stays there
Forever ready
To be breathed
Nude faces
Eventual surplus
I feel about you
Ditto ditto
Knock knock
Who’s there
Rapture
Liana
2 thoughts on “Liana”
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Love this, Jared.
Rapture indeed! Killer poem. It felt Ashberian for the briefest of moments then became something more magnificent and surprising and lovely and you.