madcaplitmag

I.
Light rain on the glass
window, weak moon with her veil—
in bed, he turns.

II.
Swallow perched above
the leafy wires, do you tire
living to expire?

III.
On the beach we spent
the last of youth. Barely clothed,
braving the undertow.

IV.
Artificial wind
relentless on my skin—
sleep is nowhere near.

V.
When captured at last,
the deer forgives the lion
for its hunger.

VI.
It is beautiful
the way light swirls when you squint
with water in your eyes.

VII.
The stunned chicken flaps
its last. See how its blood blooms
when dropped in water?

VIII.
Playing the role of
dead dogs, their torn bodies are
sprawled on the pavement.

IX.
Shoes’ shadows under
the door, are you my father
or an unsheathed dagger?

X.
“It is not a coat,
I tell you. It is a boy
hanging on the tree.”