Megan Artus

Joined October 2018

50 stories

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@megdmerrillwrites

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And She Loves to Dance
You pull me real close to your chest, a split second is spent as you spin us once, hard and fast, and then we split. Two arms lengths stand between us and the only thing that remains are fingertips. Squeezing, clinging, pleading not to break. Another split second and I'm back, back in two full hands, back chest-to-chest, cheek-to-cheek. I think I can measure the space between them with a grain of sand.
By Megan Artus7 years ago in Poets
To Become
She received a hollowing out. A hollowing of the soul. What had filled it is gone. Emptied. A shell. A remnant. A new soul to be filled.
By Megan Artus7 years ago in Poets