immie

seashells wrap themselves around her neck
pulled taut when she talks
a never-ending string of knotted words

six charcoal dots underneath her eyes
snake eyes
green and brown
the soft, olive skin peeping out from under her shirt

careless. windblown hair
a tomorrow child
a today child

her poetry slides itself over her fingers and down her wrists
leaving snail trails of tears for years to come

 
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lily veronica

MA

YWP Alumni

More by lily veronica

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  • Poetry

    By lily veronica

    close your eyes and look

    cold water that washes my skin with kisses
    the way my lungs beg for air, and yet i refuse.

    sitting on slightly Damp Grass at the very top of a hill. 
    it was warm and it was dark and the sun set on the mountains like a king 

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  • Poetry

    By lily veronica

    Another Person

    They said it would get easier

    A prickle, a soundless wind

    says otherwise

    Fingers, individually cold

    warm when wrapped ‘round my wrist

    Clouds of locusts that

    squeeze out every 

    single 

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