I read the night
between light fissures,
as my flayed self walks.

For flayed flesh shows
a marbled filigree
of short memory throbs,
a patchwork of flaying words,
ruts and ripples
of wounding actions,
and through a wasteland
of ditches
shares silence
and inedible sourness
with bergamot.

A salt water baptism,
the double-jointed howl
rising to wield agony’s
poised spiral in fire rain,
to forget and remember
before a naked sky.

Am I to emerge from the waters
with a new Lilith growth
of tight knit scales
and fanged venom?

Not from a rib,
but from the same clay?

I wonder by willows soft to shadow,
a soul heartburn’s bonfire
pouring from corners,
rise of words
and the voice of night rituals
unfolds breath orbits
of the moon.

Cling to utmost water ripples
while an upstream wind whispers
and trails coincide
with errant dancers
easing in sway sound
hemmings of the hallowed,
flailings of the blind.

Flares and embers
ease for a moment
out of a soul sickness
and into Sleep with
a latent hope
to perhaps not awaken.

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Anabell Donovan

Anabell (Anna Eusthacia) Donovan is a psychologist and educator originally from Nicaragua, Central America. She is dedicated to the success of first time in college, underprivileged students. She wants to "start where language ends."

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