It’s like gargling mouthwash:
the way the words foam and sizzle around the old bits of bread, burning blue in the dark--
you can’t expect cleanliness after just one sip.
Get it out before it gets out. Over
and over.
Leaking through cracks in the muscles around ribs,
seeping around the sentences that have already been digested--
the acid-washed ink is invisible, and it destroys
blindly; a girl catching a firefly.
Induce vomiting when you feel the burn. It only hurts
a little.
About the Creator
Lindsay Coffta
I love traveling, dogs, singing, reading, writing, miniature things, antique things, new things, all of the food, photographs, the moon.
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