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Guest Writer

by Gretta Descamp

jenny's hands are warm with energy.
she clings to his shoulder
as they spin through the dizzy shadows.
the quaking dance floor is an
unstable island off the coast of madagascar.
why do islands sink?
jen smiles.
"too many feet," she says.
nick turned his hands to heroin
and lost my postcards in mental shadows.
in brazil the birds are hands
spread across the sky.
what does death taste like?
his eyes fill with tears.
"flying," he whispers.

See more from Gretta in our archives.

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