"I didn’t say the moon was warm.
I said it was a worm
working its way out of me.
I said it was a worm
working its way out of me.
Occasionally I think maybe
the delusional sparks of me
have outweighed the good."
the delusional sparks of me
have outweighed the good."
from Juliet Cook's poem, "Blood on the unpillowed cases", which newly appears at The Rising Phoenix Review
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