
Writing Is Like A Bloodletting by Elise Swanson Ochoa
The blood-red velvet curtainshang heavy and limparound the silken bed.Braided knots, damp sheetsbear my sweating, searing brain.A delirium, another fit, God, please, rid me of my sins. The cool drip of the towel pulled from the basinrings in my ears like the screeches of the damned.The hot licks of the fireplacewhip my veiled eyes.Tossing my cheeks,but I can’t turn away.My blood is dirty.Immediate purification, Almighty.Bring the leeches! … Continue reading Writing Is Like A Bloodletting by Elise Swanson Ochoa