vantablack
We drift a while, let our skin
curl as the buzzards scream.
The clouds are heavy, so we scrape the
barrel with our nails and crawl on
our bellies to find cool air.
We are rotten from the inside out
So we climb up the walls and
talk about the smell
of our children’s hair.
©2023 C. Cimmone All rights reserved.
C. Cimmone is an author and comic from Texas. Visit her at ccimmone.com
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