I Was Wrong

I am taking a 2 week online writing class during this time of social isolation. Every day I will receive a prompt to write from. I figure I might as well put my efforts up here. They are first drafts and not well researched. I am not going to include the prompt because they are from the class and I don’t want to take the teacher’s content. These stories are fresh and raw and I want to share them with you. 

 

In my fever, I thought that I had dreamed you.

Shadowed, you perched against my windowsill

strange bird against a sooted sky.

Maps and fortunes encircled your wrists and ankles

I twined myself, painted gold stars above your eyelids.

Charred flesh we burned through bedrooms

Shattered  glass shimmering blood at my ring finger

streaming stars your mouth hot, broken ballerina, my hair brushed the floor.

You swept me up.

Singed kisses blackened my mouth.

Sometimes I wanted to peel off my skin and walk away bones white and unattached.

“You’ll regret this,” you said when I was leaving.

“I don’t think so,” I said as I left.

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