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  • Jennifer Preston Chushcoff


Darkness sticks to my skin, I’m buried deep, though the world is full and I am untethered gathering sunlight in my hair for someone willing to see. A garden breeze loosens a strand to brush my face. I stop to feel color blossom and my soul is quiet long enough to hear you breathing the warm, summer air heavy with honeysuckle miles away you have made me visible.


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