Poetry

Prosper

Prosper

We raise our hands at the sound of the gun. We stand still waiting to be called on, but the race has already begun. Time ticks slowly, as we stare down the clock. Uncomfortably squirming, biting our lips and keeping them…

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Claudia

Claudia

First prey then predator, princess from plague of corpses, rats — white cross/black rain. Wood rot, footsteps in smoke, cadavers diseased, grave resolution to starve, bereaved. You sought rodents, stumbled on cries, found slovenly, cerulean eyes. Child devoted to a corpse.…

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