Aubrie Cox Warner

SMALL CRAFT ADVISORY


bones in my feet / crackle across the floor / drank until my throat is sore / this is the nonlinear narrative / of the poem / I don't have / inside me / the days have been / a lead X-ray apron / an invisible medieval surgeon drilling / my skull / trying to let the bad out / an embalmer pulling my brains / though my nose / stay in bed / so I don't have to live

sunlit flurries
what exists
in between
 

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