Whip Stitch by Becca McGilloway

Jan 27, 2020

I used to sew
along the edge of my body

– to interrupt
the Mare unraveling

my stitched skin.
I found her on

my chest, riding against
the bedroom skyline

while her fingers severed
the raw edge of my body.

A ménage à trois at
midnight with spirits

and secrets. She ladled
my past

lives from beneath
the quilted skin

of ruby strings. Swallowing
each whole,

she licked my skin

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