Spilled Oil

Monday, July 19, 2021

Spilled oil seeps into my veins
I cough out exhaust.
Her scales weep
for they’d rather breathe in fire.
You drink from the springs,
and become ravenous for moments passed.
I can taste these days in the back of my throat.
The sun burns for those who weep.
We put on the charade of slumber
when midnight stalks by,
hoping its shadows don’t spot us.
Tremors laced into silk robes.
The fallen howls stick to my skin like molasses.
In another life, I’d dived into the candied pool.
Dust falls from my eyes.
Beyond the gritty window, I see the ghost
of my many selves swooped up by ravens.
With each drop of sweat,
I free them and all they stood for.

This poem was published by The Raven Review.

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