seven ways of feeling the sun

Just for something new, this poem was inspired by today’s NaPoWriMo prompt.


I
neither east or west,
the sun pulses into the noon
through sweaty windows and
air conditioned naps.

II
the sun disappears
behind two-story
suburban houses
growing like mushrooms,
decomposing the horizon.

III
beaming
ringleader of a
shadow menagerie.

IV
relentless
eater of skin
and paint.

V
nuisance of
sores along the
irises, an sting
among bare shoulders.

VI
the sun pulls gently
from yesterday’s rain
and weeps again.

VII
lakes of mist melt
into the ground,
reappearing in the
sun’s absence.

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c.v. grace

here lies my veins, tangled and suffocating.

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