In Poems & Fiction

The temperature crawls through the room.

I swallow you, like a glass of water.

On the floor, our deserted clothes rest comfortably

as a sleeping husband recovering from a cardiac event.

Your unattainable beauty, un-caged,

feral eyes, empty as a desert.

I swim through this deliberate amnesia,

this moment of fire forgetting flame.

Outside, the rain, a felled forest,

buildings, glistening bayonets,

I vow to keep our secret hidden from the gods.


Who would tell them? you ask.

Who would they punish, if they knew?



Appeared in Camroc Press Review,  September, 2015



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