Submission velvet
Little hurricane
Breakfast blown away
In putty, goodness
A heartache flower
Buries scrap iron deep
While bright burlap sacks
Dance amid the rain
Tiny earthquake comes
A flighted bird sings
What meaning there is
We add it ourselves
March 21, 2024
From “submission velvet” by Anonymous
Posted by alexp01 under Excerpt | Tags: fiction, story |Leave a Comment
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