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  • Emma Baccone

the night of the swarm

my bare thighs

press hard against

the hot, prickly concrete—

biting into them

tiny, shallow

red craters.

as the morning breeze

fills the jersey air

the subtle smell of

city smog

is

exhilarating.


i look back to see

a swarm

of people—

colorful, vivacious


forming

a jagged line

sprawled

along the curb

for miles…


of which

i’m in the middle.


i whip back around

and out

new paint pens

crack!

their fluorescent hues

begin to dance across

the opaque white sheet

when suddenly—

a lanternfly!


its descending, scarlet wings

flecked with specks

of vantablack shade

alight in the

oozing aequorea blues

now

brighter than ever—

its thriving self

takes flight


glowing

as the swarm

follows into the night.


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