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
HARD WAX EVERY 3 WEEKS
Butterfly pose
rip from the root
polishing oil
plus tip.
Bend over
tailgate
footboard
kitchen sink
His fingers
from breast
to perineum
Slippery smooth
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©2022 C.Cimmone All rights reserved.
C.Cimmone is a journalist, editor, and comic from Texas. She spends her time writing dark prose and free-verse poetry, which can be found in her collections, TORN UP (Femme Salve Books) and THIRD GENERATION HYSTERIA (Alien Buddha Press), as well as multiple literary journals and anthologies. Her poem about grief, “In Air,” was produced as a micro-chap and landed her a nomination for the Pushcart Prize.