Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

Reflections 2015: Zombie fingers holding sunken ships

It’s eleven past three in the morning
And all I hear is the impatient rapping of rain on my windows and balcony
The heavy continuous exhale of my air conditioner
Tapping of my keys as I scoop another poem from my skull

In the cinema of my mind I am now at the shoreline
Sloppily trudging across the sand
Wind slapping me in the face as my hair punches back

On the quest to find a ship I heard about it in fairytales

It’s almost completely submerged in water
The stern peaking out like a crocodile
Spying from the middle of a swamp
Water tonguing the rusting exterior
Seaweed like zombie fingers crawling up the sides
Holding the ship’s face in a grimy embrace

I tasted blood in my mouth
From biting my lips in anticipation
As my mind reeled and spun – a full-blown entertainment system
Projecting on the back of my eyeballs
Imagined story lines and plot twists of what had really happened
To the sunken ship

Thank you for reading this poem from
Reflections 2015, A Poetry Collection of Written Works by Tiny Fawns
This is a poetry compilation project featuring previously written content that I will share during periods of time when I am not available to provide daily updates. All poems from this collection were scheduled a week in advance. All comments, questions, and ping backs will receive a response once I return.

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