talk

thoughts blurred out like petals

withering moorland

scratches between the layers 

of vivid and faceless

I can't tell if I've dreamed

or that happened yesterday

servant to the vacant 

space that swirls around my 

aching head 

Showered in reflections

blowing kisses

mirrors shrieking 

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you are so good at this kind of writing...Poe would as for your hand...you have a marriage of metaphor and imagery that has us feeling that those mirrors really are shrieking...and that is because it is we who are...and we are seeing our reflection.