Soul Ties

Rebekah Batson

Artwork: Mikayla Casey | @okaymeeka

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In taking care

of the stars in my sky,

counting bodies like pinpricks of light,

I lie awake, 

though I should be sleeping.

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I want to dot my sky with my lips, 

press palms down 

like flowers in opening.

I dream of peonies 

flattening under my weight,

bones melting into carpet.

I don’t mind the soft patter 

of rain in summer,

the heavy vodka air,

the endless whirring of a lazy fan,

brain awake, 

but fingers sleeping.

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I open my eyes 

to a bright sky: 

not blue, 

not grey. 

Green.

Looking up at myself, 

lying there in the grass. 

I watch my hands drift 

tracing suns at my hips,

and watch you reach back. 

I can’t tell where I end 

and you begin. 

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To miss a person’s brain,

another body, like it’s mine.

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I try to make out 

the wisps of hair, 

the colour of eyes.

Not blue, 

not grey.  

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I had never forgotten 

the colour of anyone’s eyes 

but yours. 

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I had never looked at them 

long enough to see

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they were always closed.