deepundergroundpoetry.com

She Rises

I am viscera slipping through
her moon of half-crested belly.
Limbs bend in archaic archetypes:
her skin slack in gray folds.

White hair spread across remnants
of golden crop, weathered by frosted kiss.
Quiet hush settles across her every
fret and fear of tomorrow.
Mind and body become ash—

Spirit released into new flames.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 9 reading list entries 7
comments 10 reads 657
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 2:05am by mysteriouslady
SPEAKEASY
Today 2:05am by Styxian
POETRY
Today 1:01am by Grace
SPEAKEASY
Today 00:43am by Ahavati
COMPETITIONS
Yesterday 9:37pm by PAR
COMPETITIONS
Yesterday 8:15pm by PAR