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Fool, pattern, breaking roughtail, stingray and there were gestures that extinction courted us, by render, courted us again. By realm's cant; a blister blight, an unloop a snake onto the moor. Slave-maker in the contiminated breeze. Beginning, not render, the difficult surrender. I accept. I too left struggle there.
Author notesPrompt:
COTTONMOUTH COUNTRY Fish bones walked the waves off Hatteras. And there were other signs That Death wooed us, by water, wooed us By land: among the pines An uncurled cottonmouth that rolled on moss Reared in the polluted air. Birth, not death, is the hard loss. I know. I also left a skin there.
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by haley27On Aug 9 9:11 AMLast login August 25
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