Fever Dream

The room smells like smoke, wet and dewy like lime and soil. Something primal is here. It's quiet but with a low beat circulating around us, droning in the background, like we're in a whale's stomach

Poetry, Creative Nonfiction, BlogMaddy HughesJuly 23, 2019fever dream, smoke, memory, prosetry, whiskey, Salvador DaliComment

Klepto

I picked up a lipstick and buried it
In my dirty old coat
Which I couldn’t replace
Til I started bagging groceries
That was the first time
I planned on being invincible
And cruel