
The Withering Nymph by Donna Dallas
Buried deep in the womb of this soil rolling around a dead woodworm I’m nested eyes heavy with sleep Yesterday I brimmed with the froth of youth it burst from my breast spewed stars leaking galaxies And I would wrap eager fools into my folds I rushed through them with a windburn meant to sting It didn’t take a master of the universe to spear … Continue reading The Withering Nymph by Donna Dallas