hold it like our mothers last kiss
like lovers on our lips
learned to hold everything we touch
like broken bones and vocal chords
turn our sunrise to sunset without giving up the day
we learned to posses
with these white fingernails scraping the decay from our surfaces
her
crevices
they are the same
we are selfish
hoarding culture
like birthday wishes
its your turn
pick something amazing
you may never get another chance.
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