#159 – Woman Eighty Six

burn

She coughs up a sentence,

chokes out the description that’s

been bubbling in her throat lately.

 

Low, it remains inside her breath –

a story she’s telling herself

as if it were not her own.

She moves through the city in dim light,

murmuring her tale.

 

Shadows play tricks.  Are those hisses?

She sees animals and bodies in the distance.

 

Once close, it is a wrinkled coat splayed in the road.

A scrap of wet carboard is still.

 

She moves quickly through the dark blue night.

A whisper.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s