Writer in San Francisco, CA
Bloodied fingers, set small skins apart
the bones that crunch in the jaws of
the dog. I am the birds feathers, strewn
across the grass. Droplets of sweat, saliva,
and blood permeate the air.
Thank you for reading my work! I hope you will return in the future! If you would like to be notified when I publish new material please follow or subscribe to the email list.
Thank you,
-Alina
Free Hand #4 (version one)
The blood that seeps into
Cracks and crevices of rock and stone.
Tile, carpet, wood. Painting painting
Painting the night with a sweetest, irony
Scent. Touch the edge, smear the finger tips.
Rouge the red, on the bathroom floor.
Parts of you, parts of us all, in the blood
On the floor.
(revision)
BLOOD
The blood that seeps into,
the mouth, the cracks and crevices. The rock
and stone, tile, carpet, wood, the back of
the throat. Painting, painting, pain-
-ting the night with a sweet irony scent. Touch,
the edge, smear the finger-
tips, rouge red on the bathroom floor. Parts
of you, parts of us all, in the blood.
If you’re reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing. I hope you return in the future!
-Alina