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sign of the times at second beach


Dusti Renee Worley

my lover holds her own silent space in the silver light : the violent tide rushes in :: cold air wraps around us – a new moon, year : it’s our first night at the shore since the summer before last. // this clinical, inconsiderate world would be unrecognizable by who we were then : women who drank the sun in their coffee and swallowed it with their skin. whose fanged mouths siphoned the ocean’s salt :: leaving only the bloated ghosts of her spent minerals : did we think we were golden? // we were vampires even then : tonight, the vengeful sea – with her melancholy army of stars – :: has come to meet us : where we are

Dusti (they/them) is editor of the Delicate Emissions poetry zine and host of Your Friend Dusti, a read-aloud poetry podcast. They write about love, longing, grief, and ghosts from the Appalachian Valley and Ridges region of Alabama

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