Some evenings you brim
with the sky’s quiet bruising—
colors as beautiful as the spilled
brains of a bird. Such a fucked
holiness, you think.
Erika L. Sánchez, from “Quinceañera,” Lessons on Expulsion (via lifeinpoetry)
Published
Some evenings you brim
with the sky’s quiet bruising—
colors as beautiful as the spilled
brains of a bird. Such a fucked
holiness, you think.
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