by | Nov 17, 2013 | Blog, My Poems, My Writing Challenges


The questions come like glass
and ice. She removes

her hair and a piece of
her skull—this is all that could ever

protect me—and the brain
beneath is pulsing

and pink and white. Later,
in his dreams, he tells

the other bodies that there was yellow,
too: the series of electrons,

leaping: hoping for survival