by March 7, 2019 0 comments

The silence a barracuda makes
swimming down your spine.
Pain sloshes in the skull
breath catches in the throat.
Sliding against the bones
barracudas leave no tracks
make sudden darts upward
pulled by the shadow
of a thought darkening the surface
dive into deeper darkness
leave a cloud of blood thinning
on the surface churn.

– John Riley

editors note:

Damn the metaphors, let’s go swimming! – mh clay

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