slip
By Grace Black
lie down in the middle of the room, imagine your bones are soup, a slip of green like split pea, then try to breathe through them—your bones—choke on the air that no longer exists in lungs your bones do not contain: this is what trusting someone, again, feels like.
Grace Black mingles with words as she navigates this realm. Gravitating toward brevity in her poetry and flash fiction, she is also the founding editor of Ink In Thirds. Examples of her work can be found published or forthcoming in Bending Genres, FWWR, Roi Faineant, Mind Matters Mag, Maudlin House, Unbroken, Eunoia Review, Into the Void, Pidgeonholes, and Haiku Journal. @graceblackink on SM.
Artwork Source: “choke,” The Turning Leaf Journal
The Turning Leaf Journal 