10-23-2016, 05:01 AM
The hand stewed
in fever blanket sweat
for months after the operation.
A tingle lingered in its vacuum like the stare
of a stranger, and a breeze could chill
the bones in the fingers, sending a hush
upon the itch.
When the wind died
and the bristles in the trees
grew still, I’d think about
their movement.
in fever blanket sweat
for months after the operation.
A tingle lingered in its vacuum like the stare
of a stranger, and a breeze could chill
the bones in the fingers, sending a hush
upon the itch.
When the wind died
and the bristles in the trees
grew still, I’d think about
their movement.