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your empty eyes are unknowingly chasing me. they’re screaming quietly as they hold a hand out that’s just short of grabbing the frail ends of my sweater sleeve. my role in this battle is unproductive – my intention lies somewhere between trying to escape your eyes and leaving just enough of me behind so you don’t forget about me. or maybe it’s my guilt that leads me, rolling off my damp skin and dripping onto the floor below my shaky feet.

i can’t help you but this unproductive chase makes me feel as if maybe your eyes will come┬áback. like that shine they had when you’d push my swing and┬ásmile into the sky that used to smile back at you.


SWEATER by Widow

Photos by Beth Kotz

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