You pull your genuine
leather belt from
the door handle,
saunter towards
me splayed across the
mattress with that
grin that wets.
Bind it around
wrists, teething
against my peckish skin.
Raise arms above head
in Urdhva Hastasana.
Release the heaviness
I’ve carried through the day.
Every brick house particle
falls into the crack beneath
our window, could not pick it
up no matter how much I wanted to.

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Aimee Nicole is a chronically ill, queer poet currently residing in Rhode Island. She holds a BFA in Creative Writing from Roger Williams University and has been published by various lit mags. Her first collection Daily Worship is forthcoming from Laughing Ronin Press January 2022. Feel free to follow her on Instagram @aimeenicole525 for awkward selfies and pictures of her cat.
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