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Burial Crown

by Valerie, darling


i slip the match from under my tongue

and strike it across my lips.

it's a trick: to die a little

and taste the fresh, thrown earth

at the back of your

throat without pause.

and it's not easy becoming a god -

setting fire to your skin,

melting your hair

until the cuticles coil

up against your skull

and break down into gold.

i’ve been told this is

the only way to grow.

so i’ve crawled through soil,

again and again.

to appear reborn,

suck the dirt from my fingertips

and tell you baby,

i’ve been to hell and kissed

Persephone on the lips.

Valerie, darling (she/her) is an author living in Los Angeles. You can find her via @softcorekitsch on Instagram.

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