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A. Z. Louise

this body is a
nettle I uproot again and again in search of something to ret to spin into thread to twist to hold her
between kisses that find tender places when she bends and sways with me though I am a silken

these bodies are
hungering clumps of flowering vine and lithe withies with catkins drooping as my tongue seeks
the bitter analgesia beneath the surface she needing the sweetness that drips but cannot pool in
closed spaces

this soul is
sighing itself python-tight to cut to stanch the sap to be absorbed into an embrace that strangles her
and I am numb to the core and she is sweeter than nectar this body so much more than simply a


A.Z. Louise is a civil engineer-turned-writer of speculative things, whose conure keeps them company during the writing process. When not reading or writing, they can be found playing folk harp, knitting, or weaving. Their work has been published in Strange Horizons, Fiyah, and NightLight Podcast.