the quarter moon 
dissolves below the horizon 
a virus flowers 
like salt crystals 
waterwheel bloodstream
a virus 
flowers    do not leave us here 
in shadows  do not leave us 
without bread or stars
old record playing                
flamenco voice
                     scratchy and hoarse               
flashes of lightning in dry hills
I am lost in your voice of 
drowned roses
          I am lost in your drowned
corals I am lost in your voice 
of fireflies this scar
where muscle ties into bone

Meredith Stricker | Dear Silence >>
Contents | Mudlark No. 54  (2014)