Smitten as a Noun: | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Chronogram Magazine

Rocks with holes in them,

rub a dragonfly wing

on your cheek,

suck the light

out of the void

& mold it with your teeth.

Run your tongue along

the ridge of your teeth

like they just got cleaned

& make sure to feel the grit in your palm.

The sun noon will happen.

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