By Chrissy R

worms the color of
bruised tongues wriggle
out of sodden dirt and
splay themselves out on
gritty asphalt

To breathe.
We bite our tongues as the
sun returns to burn away the wet.
Bodies shrivel from the
desiccation until we can come out to

Air that smells like all that
rainwater and blood
evaporating to fill our lungs.

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