My Hair Burned Like Berenice
I was appreciative to be alone in my deliberation
Days of rain. The drey exterior my window would transport
and the wind would strip. My heart was valent
with plausibility I may well be presently, halfway lady,
half asterism. Fragmental as a modern time. Benefactor holy person
of the rutilant and cindering.
I seem run in secret
to places anticipated in office timetables. As well long I βd
mothered myself with the reverence of bystanders.
I was appreciative to be alone in my deliberation. To be both
overlooked and rubbed by a coarse sky. I didn't offer up
passage of me like touching off.
I'll not decorate a single
half circle. The ground bulges with a damp sound.
It's glutted with what was given.
I do the wolfish work
of god and make myself once more. develop like lichen on
the asphalt.
Like rain carrying the memory of lightning.ππβ
About the Creator
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.