Leila Ortiz, River

Prince of wildlife
and parched mouth.
The still eye
and the wandering
eye. Twitch of lip
and teardrop filling cornea.
I don’t care
about cocaine
mixed with
sedatives. I care
about mourning
your long gone
smell. I plead with god
and dirt paths:
Let me live
with sadness.
Why do I love you
as if you were limb,
my own broken
pinky, swelling
in the dark?

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