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bathhouse with venus

underneath my civilian

clothes, my rainbow scales

gleam with the mad night,

glowing through my shirt—

but only you can see

these colors.

they bleed onto you—

now you are emerald,

deep turquoise, stormy

purple, teal, gold,

fuchsia, emerald, reflecting

the planets above—


our venetian priestess

bathes in selenite water

charged with jupiter and

outer-space powders.

constellations form between

her eyes, delicate legs

form wings and flutter.

she meets me there,

in the bathhouse,

we sweat

our prayers.

By Amber Marie


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