untitled
for W.
by Mira Chieko Shimabukuro

Barefoot, night widens
as we sleep. Above, wings breathe
at the body clasp, the neighbor's
cat
curls on concrete. Reins loosen
in an open field, cottonwood
flies free. Mountain streams
in our palms, we let loose
the cat on a city street. Barefoot
and lashing tongues, we skin
the night, salt-wide and deep.
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