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Sep 2023
my pond was touchingly soft. my tail was milk gone blue. a chorus of whining dogs replaced the sun. replaced the moon. i didn’t believe in god. god, i am caught in a net of wounds. dragged into the mouth of a cave. flame tongue sharp; man made. the dogs vanished. my tail cleaved like a heart. i am sat on a nest of teeth. i am given jars to fill. i cry. i fill a jar with tears. i call the jar a pond. i will fill them all
Mote
Written by
Mote  31/F/Michigan
(31/F/Michigan)   
  243
     Dust and Sukanya Sinha Roy
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