Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

on these cliffs

the sky holds its breath
i feel like
the cliffs are about to turn
over in their sleep,
teeth buried
into the hips of
the ocean and
i will wake up
in a dream rolling upon
the slipping sand neck-deep
in the waves,
and i will
wake up
again
between a
rock and another
hard place
my head a cave


© Tiny Fawns, 2018

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