I know; this is sooo 2010, but here's a Throwback Thursday Poem from 2014
©Sunday’s Murder of Crows
Mimi Wolske - Mona Arizona™
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.