Poetry Showcase: Donna Dallas (February 2023)

Fevers of the Mind


My body has a warning label 
details listed in hieroglyphics
as much as I want to be studied
I don’t really want to be deciphered 
I’m so bent and broken I’m perfect 
if you’re on the hunt 
and catch my scent
I’ll wait blindfolded by the firepit
come warm your hands 
together we will terrorize the night

This Skin

So bony
I break like branches
withered veins
buried so deep under my skin
in fear of a poke
they cocoon deep into muscle

I beg the moon to forgive me
I beg the sun to bathe me
lie so natural I form clouds
that float along
swab up my aftermath

I’ve yet to whistle
last whistle was 1996
last kiss on the mouth was around there
maybe that was when the world stopped
and my hell – is thinking
I’m still alive

Everything Counts in large amounts with coffee…

View original post 93 more words

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 )

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

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.