Dreamless Moon

Image: Susie Clevenger

The air is thick with empty.

Windowpanes wink with passing cars,

but no one stops to read my lips anymore.

I live in a burnt candle moon 

where arms atrophy 

from the loss of touch.

I’m words on a screen, a photograph, 

a video wading through pretend trying

to trust I’ll reach flesh and blood.

©Susie Clevenger 2020

 Friday Flash Fiction 55 June 26 2020

The Wolf Howls in Red

I screamed into the wind,

“Give me your worst,

 bits of hell

purchased with a liar’s tongue.

The storm is always with me

even when the moon

tangles my hair with dreams.”

 I was born in the womb

of a dead valentine,

a loveless lullaby hummed

through the throat of delirium. 

 

Today is another matchstick

on the bonfire I breathe,

the scar chasing me with

its knife I won’t let cut me.

 

I will be strong even if I fall.

Every weakness in me will find

its shaman to pulse my spirit

with survival.

 ©Susie Clevenger 2020

I was inspired by the image and a thunderstorm. 

The Sunday Muse #113

Not for Sale

My eyes aren’t servants

of diamonds nor does

my hand owe allegiance

to glitter.

 

If you wish to capture my heart,

pour your soul into charity.

 

I’m not a mannequin

to be gilded with your arrogance.  

©Susie Clevenger 2020 

The Sunday Muse #111