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by Adrienne Lewis
This is the color she sweeps
over flesh each night. She wears it deep,
flush with shadows, curves she aches to feel touched.
On her spine there is an image:
Father, Son and Holy Ghost woven together
inside three points; leading downward,
their intercession hollows as she arches
brushing fingers over burning skin,
the personal stains darkness pushes through her
from where blood boils
deep red.