NaPoWriMo #12: “Eyelashes”

Hello readers,

Goodness, I’m behind! I’ve slid back into my old habit of writing poems and posting them online in bulk every few days. Here’s to kicking that one!

Eyelashes

She is eyelashes
cropped to the length of

paddock
grass

by the velvet mouths
of horses.

In her brick red shirt
she wears one earphone.

The other trails
like a severed artery,
haemorrhages sound

which I taste

faint,
metallic

on the wind.

Her face is
sunglasses.

Two weeks ago,
when April yawned and

shook

the ice of winter
from its coat,

I drank death
out of cupped hands

but

she grew a garden’s flowers
from my hair.

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