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Kennings

Mya Matteo Alexice | Poetry

let’s call it a heartrend.  let’s call my memories of you a pastgrave. let’s make
a new   word for   it:  friendgrief.  there are only two whaleroads between us.
both of us  survivors of choicetheft.  it made it hard to chestopen safely. last
time we chestopened  each other  the heatball  sweltered in the blueair.  my
bonehouse misses your bonehouse. not sure when the bloodsweat will stop.
but  this pastgrave  is nice.  there are flowers here.  let’s call  them babysuns.
sunstems. sundancers. petalstars. let’s call them proof we were here.