by Kenzie Boney
I found myself in between Los Angeles and San Francisco,
basking in the warmth of Topanga’s swelter. Fair-skinned
little dove, morning dew gray and violent.
Sweet like blackberries in the winter, frosted and crisp. I fell for
your venus, aquarius lover. Your calloused hands gift-wrapped around
my neck. The cherry satin bow glistening against your flushed cheeks.
Your tenderness bloomed worlds inside of me.