tagNon-Erotic PoetryPersian Rug, Spinning

Persian Rug, Spinning


Water seeps into the roll, duct tape
waisting my middle, as the body spins

us down against seaweed and other men's
dropped burdens. The dead girl twirls
inside my sleeve of fine knots, spiraling pod
to the dark feet first, bare and pale and stiffening

below a rising breath of petals.

survivor poem, P.O.V. Persian Rug

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byPandoraGlitters© 1 comments/ 1528 views/ 1 favorites

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