List of Listed Thoughts



a black window frame a rifle sky a rifle sky a black window frame a glass star clinks a night persists on too many clinks an audio clip of scratches a clock's second-hand clinks the tips of my fingers bleed a droplet runs down the glass a cartography of red a pint of wine in a wine glass clinks a plum tree blooms there is nothing but blood between us a plum ripens into spring i know seasons as the temperature of your hands touch turns my skin into exotic fruit, un-devoured & bruised a plum falls to the ground a bottle pleading to be drained a table for none, cutlery clinks and i'm glass-walled between seasons your fingertips trace an warzone before my eyes a crash in the bullet-proof night hand shoved in throat, my skin sewn on yours like puppetry and i say the most flourished things: My Blood On Your High Heels Metal Chains & Two Fingers & Painted Nails & Spit Down My Throat Tongue The Insides Of My Ventricles & Arteries Teethed To Puppet Strings a plum spoils on the ground a clock's hour-hand clinks my need for you exceeds the rhythm of time a shooting star lands afar, clink.

 

Yun-Fei Wang is a high school junior. Find her at ink-stained midnights or at @rainofelsewhere on Instagram.

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