Sunday's Murder of Crows by Mimi Wolske

I know; this is sooo 2010, but here's a Throwback Thursday Poem from 2014

©Sunday’s Murder of Crows

Mimi Wolske

Mimi Wolske - Mona Arizona™

October 2014

All Rights Reserved

sometimes, more often than not,

I wake wondering Am I a vampire?

metallic taste--more than one spot--

covers my teeth; they require

a sweeping tongue, long on spittle,

short on the blood it can taste.

teeth clenched, they’re almost brittle.

it’s what I do at night, lay in waste

and nightmares of you alone,

in Mexico without me,

a murder of crows after your bone

and you cry for me as them you flee.