In Poems & Fiction

Gravity is neither human nor animal, so close to the ground, it frightens the trees. Those clouds, lawless, out of control, like school children who aced the test.

I slacken now, into sleep’s box canyon. It’s fun at first, but its theme is damnation. Even if you give it the benefit of the doubt, it’s hard to get that bullet back into the barrel.

Burned bones buried in numerical order, cool dusk quiet as stars, until I startle, punching air, screaming like a rip saw.

But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I won’t confess, until I’m dead.




Appeared at The Drabble October 28, 2017


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