She is a wind rippling through

a field of water,

the flowers gasping to stay above the plastic surface.

The world can blow away like a wish.

She is a wish of piano fingers

and leathery song.

The touch of her mind on the water

designs waves that don’t care who they drown.

He is an island,

crunched and crumbling.

Seven sisters treat the water to something

Red

New

Foul.

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