Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2015
Silver sliver slices through
whites, glides.
Pop.
Yellow blood bleeds,
spills, sludges.
Salt sprinkled on the sparkling slate
meets tongue.
"Good mornings" sung.

*—S.C., March 25, 2015
sharyn
Written by
sharyn
298
   Eiliv Advena and Cecil Miller
Please log in to view and add comments on poems