A Day Unresolved
So unasleep, the sheet’sa beach of footprints
waiting for the tide.
Her shape question-marked,
crucified, an inquisition
scales her eyes.
Wincing at infinities,
she stares a spot
and picks at it.
Each star a prick,
a javelin
thrown across the centuries
makes waves
just deep enough to swim
before light breaks
her open skin.
Poetry by Ray Miller
Read 118 times

Written on 2025-02-21 at 19:24




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