Velvet Legs by Pattie Flint

They picked you for your bee-sting lips,
the way your hair shone in the light, and
those little speckles in your eyes that
the boys down the street always loved.
The things you loved about yourself became
what you hated, velvet legs thrashing as
you drown; you get to the surface and
the water is on fire.

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Published by

Jeremiah Walton

Jeremiah Walton is wary of writing a bio.

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