By Antonia Wang

I went chasing waterfalls
Down your spine
Of steep sighs and slithery obsidian.
I lost my bearings
At your narrow crest
And a choir of voices
Muffled my fall.
I prayed for mercy upon your sacrum
Of wish and bone.
But my gods couldn’t make my words
Over roaring water.
I drowned at your base,
Of sand and stone.

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