claw foot tub

she lies on a porcelain shoreline

the plastic curtain condensation

 trickling in pollock dewdrops

  her breaths lost ships

christened by lily pad lips

she is the moon

beckoning his restless ebb

lightheaded constellations

reflecting across the surface

of fluoride dosed water

he hovers over her like a net

swells in her tides

 traces a restless equator

her auburn hair adrift

halo of undulating anemones

she levitates beneath his weight

 contemplates the aching sunset

 and tropical storms passing

in his eyes

on this, their maiden voyage

in a claw foot tub

a. duncan, 2017

 

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"She would fill endless notebooks with stories about the characters in her life, their impressions, words, friends, lovers, inspirations, fantasies. She spent her days dreaming up worlds where they fit together in visions; the if only, the never again, the someday. Those who knew her best would describe her as a creature with a clear and sometimes painful sense of herself; furious with ideas and convictions, to a point that she frightened love away with discernment and a relentless strength of character."

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