Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2020
~           *light on,
still-frame freeze of black bodied eight-legged life
     clinging to stained acrylic. we stare at each other pretending we're not real
until one of us moves.
                    
it was me.
Written by
Laokos
1.1k
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems