Eating Our Words They ought to float Away like cigarette smoke To contaminate someone else’s curtains. But they don’t. They hover over our heads Like filthy haloes. Everything we think Comes under their cloud. How can we disperse them? They suffuse our clothes Like tobacco odors. Turn our fingers The color of dying chrysanthemums. We…

This content is for Basic Member, Friends of Burningword 3-Day Pass, Friends of Burningword 3-Month Subscription, and Friends of Burningword Annual Subscription members.
Log In Register
Listed at Duotrope
Listed with Poets & Writers
CLMP Member
List with Art Deadline
Follow us on MagCloud
%d bloggers like this: