Post the Eighty-Eighth or Juntos

Rough edges

Grate across each



Words fall

Like drops

Out of your mouth

Into sore wounds

I never knew what love looked like

But you showed me

The inside of your flesh

And I remembered




Love is only ever

What we give

The sun lies

Across the mountain

Paining the sky crimson and gold

I turn to see

Your face outlined

In scrub bush and nettle

Your lips the color of


Qué es el cariño

Entre dos cuerpos

Constantly atropellado by the world

When the only sure thing

Is death?


Keep your palm pressed

Against mine

And don’t be afraid

Porque estamos


About witchymorgan

I'm a 22 year old womanist, sex positive, pansexual, polyamorous, queer, bruja, transwoman. Social justice activist by day, social justice activist by night. Fun! View all posts by witchymorgan

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