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Magpie Love 

Ella DeFrance

Onions and weed coat his breath 

as he pulls me in for a kiss 

that I take hungrily.  


I kiss your body like a deer  

licking salt from the road.  


We keep the nectar we squeezed from the mountain 

in a glass jar on our bedside table.  

We coat ourselves in it before going to sleep 

and lay with our thoughts trapped in our head.  


You are like an arched window. Perfect and soft, I say 

and you cradle me there.  

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