Zaria Ware

I need you.

Who we are

is amber liquid
dripping into the
crevices of our smiles
so that we can
always catalogue them
keep them in our chest
cavities where the
memories go
and who we are is
bare feet on chilled
wooden floors
bare and ready for
approaching splinters
who we are is...


He grins at you, because a particulary

drunk couple has just stumbled down the street across from you
giggling and laughing the entire way down hill
and like a virus laughter is contagious and
suddenly you both feel light and airy
as if this afternoon hadn't happened
as if you have both become new versions
of yourself that can live without a dark shroud
holding onto your shoulders and latching its claws
into your back


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