You bled, some said
late in the season, poured
every cup you held up
to the sun for filling
over the emerald rug; wrung
out rings that women wear,
safe in their bedsheets; looked us
in the eye, the odalisque after
she moves her hand away.
Adriana Stimola is a non-fiction literary agent, content consultant, mother, and ever-aspiring poet. Her poetry has most recently been published in The Santa Clara Review, Harbor Review, Juke Joint, and High Shelf Press. She lives in the Hudson Valley of NY.
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