owl spins, eyes linger on bush, on stone,
on dark crevice. a rustle. eyes bore, a softness
presses under feathers as the owl lifts, to
glide to snatch up a plump gray mouse.
Tag: poem
Broken Glass Tastes Good [a poem]
lips crease, to fold into a snarl as the words shatter
and pierce his heart. glossy eyes slick and sharp
burrowing into his. flawless, imperfections visually scarce
a beauty but the words
they cut and marr at his soul, rupturing the bliss, the hope
he ached for. a quip, a spin on the heel, and she’s off.
blood trickles down his chin; why does broken glass taste good?
When Wishes Fly Away [a poem]
She tightens her grip, the star flexes, pulls, attempts
to wiggle out of her grasp. what good are wishes when
they can fly away? diamond teeth dig into her hand,
she yelps and throws the star to the floor. it shimmers
for a moment, hovering, before it shoots through the roof
and into the sky, leaving a pea-sized exit-wound in the wood.
she seethes, rage fluttering up through her chest, and
falls in a heap.
Golden Eyes Shine [a poem]
skimming grassy knolls laced
with winter frost. a press of hoof
into soil, trending careful, flaxen-colored fur
blends to disappear. a still place, a murmur
of a brook moving under a thin sheet of ice.
golden eyes shine in the morning light.
the girl outside the bar [a poem]
Crisp air pulls across chrysanthemum curls,
a glance, a brace against a rusted streetlight, smoke swirls
from plush lips, she is everything but what she is not.
Aqua moon sinks low into the mosaic Bay, night bleeding
into the fog to press against silky skin, wet and glistening.
A hint of liquor lingers on breath, a steady indulgence of
downers to saturate the ache.
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