Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

itch, drip

a still whisper drips from my lips hardly turning pages in the wind a summer breeze runs dry, making the sky itch her eyes she goes…

when it’s passed

my thoughts rain hard knocking on the doors of sidewalks and roads dripping from traffic lights and windowsills rushing with rivers, running down the arms of…

word camo

sometimes i like to take words and turn them inside out, figure out what they’re all about – how they can change temperament when whispered or…

snowhill

cloudy, snow hills in the skies growing grey, my eyes grow heavy, counting ripples raindrops make as they take long leaps from snowy slopes © Tiny…