19 / 34
34
35
Abby Davis
Writing is my haven,
A safe place for my soul,
Writing is my everything,
A bridge without a toll.
Writing is my light at night,
The food to feed my ghost,
Writing is my guide in life,
It’s what I love the most.
Whenever I feel out of place,
Slightly lost or just confused,
My thoughts flow out so easily,
As I write, I feel amused.
When no one’s there to hear me
When voices fill every ear,
This new world opens up to me,
My journal, my one sole peer.
Icelandic Horses
Felipe Urrutia (Digital Photograph)
So much
depends upon
an inky tattoo
framing the underside
of a wrist,
branding tanned skin
with a spiraling blue S,
as if to give strength
to that weak link
between the hands that create
and the arms that support,
as if the pain
of needles etching on skin
eliminate the fear
that one day
those veins and tendons and filaments
that run under that soft layer of bronze
will snap.
Because now
those raven colored trails
that hold the joint together
have infused soft skin
with invincibility,
that even kryptonite would fail
against it.
Carlotta Verita
Views
Cecilia Lopez-Jordan (FilmPhotograph)