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The Corner of Her Eye

By Ansley Wiederholt

  1. Red Earth
    Red Earth
    Esteli Mijares
She knows nothing of that time.
The persistent waves of drenched roses and blood,
No acceptance for static currents in their prime.

Her hands move in slow stories, the mime
Reaching out for driftwood in frigid flood.
She knows nothing of that time.

That sour flood, in flavors of bitter lime.
Lost, dragged down by hands that claw out from the swampy mud.
No acceptance for static currents in their prime.

She swallows the red spit as it starts to climb
Up her throat through thorny coughs and anxious rosebud.
She knows nothing of that time.

Toss back the contaminated holy water with basil and thyme,
Run red rivers of her blue veins in heartbeats that faintly thud.
No acceptance for static currents in their prime.

Gardens of saltpeter and utter sublime
Line her brain with decrepit thoughts she once loved.
She knows nothing of that time.
And there’s no acceptance for static currents in their prime.
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