.

the scratchy side of stars

these
are
the places
we find
detached doll arms
grandpa’s bait box
tales of the other Jesus
the noises we use to fuck strangers

i’ve

i did not find willows in the sheets

i did not smell cotton in the fountains

i did not see the wild flowers crawl atop the rocks

it felt like home

i was the thing
under things

the tick stuck in sap

the skin
lizards leave

.

Forum Comments:brink
Image Credit:Quinn Dombrowski
mm
"Stop telling the same stories. Stop writing the same poems others are writing. Stop saying things the same way every other person has said them. Do something different."

Leave a Reply