a descent into poetry insanity |
| from my fingers blood wells, like spring buds under a time-lapse lens, swelling, blooming, bursting into the two-dimensional-- crushed petals? escape the metaphor. all is blood, again, wiped from fingertips to blossom unexpectedly in the trash can. line count: 13 free verse prompt: describe something you see every day written for "The Daily Poem " |