The Whisky Blot
Journal of Literature, Poetry, and Haiku
i. I bowed to the crows when I realized your presence turned my eyes to tongues. Mind led where body resisted. But how could I scare something so rare? ii. Alone with you, time held a match to my belly and rusted my spine. Time was a deep sea oil spill when I had you I hemorrhaged you. iii. A lone sisserou choosing my shoulder would coo as it pleased while I’d cower, memorize its weight; wait for the talon in the collarbone. iv. You flew off before the gentle bleach of habit falling like first snow. But weren’t there others in need of technicolor and a way back home? Lindsay Clark is a resident physician living in California with her family. Comments are closed.
|
Follow Us On Social MediaArchives
September 2023
Categories
All
Help support our literary journal...help us to support our writers.
|