I see those mottled photos, ornate albums
of yesterdays yellow sun
Of swollen women, dream-like, in a lavender field.
They leash their arms around an oval-shape
becoming empty; the shape deflates, the air comes out like water.
It starts to breathe it’s own small breath in the shape of a person,
someday a man, a woman, sometimes swollen, sometimes
stiff, stark, or bleeding.
Seeing those photos one day,
your nose has memorized leather and tobacco flower.
for her, it’s dr.pepper, Disney on ice
the cotty musk she never knew she had just inside the pi of bone.
samantha lucero 2017 ©
Samantha Lucero likes… uhhh… cats, and can never think of what to say about herself, she writes at Samantha Lucero, sometimes and is a managing editor at the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective.
Whisper and the Roar 