Flash Poetess
in and out
before the white coats
encircled her
their circus tent
making spectacles
of her kind
undressing
in the center ring
she didn't want that
keeping most of her secrets
from the glare of the spotlights
but she told enough
to make us believe in her dreams.
Last Night
I caught her
weeping in the shower
liquid pearls
clinging to her skin
she had made her decision
never to drown
in the deep dark drain of fame
still sucking at her feet
holding out her hand
I took her wet to our bed
wind from the open window
fanning us into the morning sanctity.
Stephen Jarrell Williams loves to stay up all night and write with lightning bolts until they fizzle down behind the dark horizon. He is the editor of Dead Snakes at http://deadsnakes.blogspot.com/
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