KILLER WHALE JOURNAL OF POETRY

Silhouette

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Blood thrummed in your head. You
were eighteen and elegiac, you knew the
hidden names of the ages and your
knowledge curled in on itself,
a nautilus. You busted open your lip
on fists full of silver dollars while you
waited for the train. Boston faded deep
in the distance & you prayed hard in
the dark, terrific filth. You unfolded.
Brine of your oyster-shucked heart.
Honey ran through your teeth.

++++++Zachary Evans

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