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[let me come in your jar]

Cris Edwards


let me come in your jar
where no earth survives
her hair drifts in the vinegar
as silk in the sea
pale, broth-bloated limbs
with pickled veins like sandal leather
undulating among the brine
some nights I fight away sleep
only to stare at the specimen
the morning comes anew, headlong
away with me, love, and no thing between
your ripe liquid comes in at the nose
and lets us drown