A carnal flower grows in my garden, and each night, like clockwork, when the sun slumbers, giving way to the Afterdark, I pick it and settle it in my tweed pocket. I keep it safe through the darkness, where I disappear into the shadows, becoming endlessly elegant. Sitting in the hush of the violet hour….

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: