Baby's Breath

A meditation on desire, destruction, and mortality through vivid, surreal imagery

Baby's Breath

Pomegranate seeds—dainty destruction.
Sweat pools in my palm’s parlor.
The trip abroad meant to swindle me.

Hell is the stretch of moonshine roads.
Your fingers, sticky with the fruit,
interlock our cliche fate.

Sun peeks from her horizon, smiling.
The seeds dissolve—tiny betrayals.
Memories etched into the skin lines,
burning like sour breath.

My feet dangle over my daybed.
My pennies are mine to keep.
My soul rests in the mortal,
baby’s breath blooming.