Submitted by Tanya Singh
The eagle smoky eyes, the berry lips of the ever lasting Sunday, and the cigarette between hushing , the hair pulled up to hold the crown: burden firm, the dreams of Monday mornings,
The eyeliner that extends to the east of Eden, the waist that is only silhouette,
I am a big shadow of a thousand fears, rampaging like my slippers on the dead of sky, wearing pearls made of crystallised tears,
the sigh that speaks, is the breath that keeps me alive in my fortress of stones, carved to their design and frame,
They may call it a diamond, but I know it’s cut,
And for Halloween, I dressed up as
a pretty girl, strangely not that I knew I wasn’t,
But simply, because the memo read: Your
Nightmares; things that terrify you,
kill your darlings, they said.
Zzz/shh. We did.