#71 [the hiss of flowers / the quivering] by William James

the hiss of flowers / the quivering

pulse of a fawn / elegant scavenger,

monstrous & perfect / she dreams

in circles / heavy with static /

buried by the hum & groan

of a frozen mountain / rats coiled

around stones licking at the dust /

the commonplace is holy / the sun

a vile animal screaming at broken glass /

awaken, oh destroyer /

lay your skeletal claws cold

against my neck / scratch my skin

until i am nothing but smoke

& light / the glowing euphoria

of fear slowed to a hum /

the sick, sweet taste of blood

William James is a writer currently existing in the Queen City of Manchester, NH. He was born, once, and has been surviving ever since. He's on the internet at williamjamespoetry.com or on Twitter (@whoisthebilljim)