Author: Kayla E. Moore

CENTO FOR YOUNG LOVERS

When I was young I wove garlands of hyacinth and garden clover — shifting weight between hips on the consuming wheatgrass beneath Wrangling vine, twisting tendrils, twining together as one – as we once did. Hands fused, slipping around an arm to be beside the freckle on my neck — leaf braided into stem, swiftly fusing, a chain. As each petal tumbles through sable sunset, I recount how we trembled....

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