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strawberries


hidden against the wind

i duck down

into my high collar

and suffer

a violent

short coughing fit.

slightly stunned i

dab a bare hand at

the corner of my mouth

the skin comes away tinted

- a colour indicator

that my life

has begun

to ebb

over my liars tongue

and out

my lonely lips.

~

turn the page

~

words: J. Fisher, Canada (about & more)
image: Ira Joel Haber, New York (online gallery)

 

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BluePrintReview - issue 20 - The Missing Part

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