I need…

I need to get back here. I’m starving. I’m green. I’m sprouting springs buds from the skin under my nails. I don’t care that it’s fall, that it rains, that winter will come. will always come. I don’t eat. This fills me more. My attention span shorter these days as the days. I read my loves. touch their hair, their skin, their faces growing fat and then sallow. i touch you and want to wake with you, all of you. I’m the woman’s hot breath on the window pane. Do you see me from outside, red shirt through the glass? Do  I see me through you instead?

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