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In a Bottle This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

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The saccharine pain
Of seasalt raw on his tongue

Sand glazed over
Glass bottle.
Feet against
Fractured
Crystalline murmurs.
Frayed white satin
Snagged on the calloused roughness
Of sweat-darkened, well-worked hands
And a dampened brow.
Veins of ink
In rocketing slather
Marred by wine-hued rust
And sibylline whispers.


Find me.



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