Featured Poem / Fall/Winter 2015
“The Flower”
The last drops of early morning dew
Glistening in the light
Saltless tears of the night.
Brushing the back of my hand
Softly down the petals
Careful not to bruise them
Letting them be
As beautiful as they can be
reflecting in it
Before sliding my hand down
Taking the delicate stem
Between two fingers
The crack echoing in my heart
As I snap it over
To let the flower hang there
And die
Like everything else
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