Resurgence

Published in Pulp Poets Press (poetry)

Resurgence.jpeg

Altitude 32,000 

and raindrops batter plexiglass. 

Your wrists are bound 

with impalpable twine to the armrests –  

twig-fingers crimped around quiet

like arachnids suspended 

from umbra ceilings. 

Our stomachs levitate.

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7-Word-Story

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Still I See the Pier’s Contortions