Camille Thigpen, 10/12


– one day and then the
next, like ripples on a
lake we make it
by the minute, we
make it, swapping
smiles and sipping tea, until
the world ends, we
make it, slashing ourselves
apart with salt water
and rhinestones, we make
it no matter how many
threads it takes to
stitch us back to
gether and how many
times the second
hand cleaves us with a
slit-cunning stroke, vulnerable
again, but we soften
the sting and hold hands and
make it, yes we make it;






Promote. Poetry.
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