She with the shiny black rose hair
smiles ancient rictus grin:
compliment received…
will I age like that? Like a papercut?
Blood drips to water stores
removed from dry bone rattle;
a fire of truth that burns us all away.
Kindness amidst violence
threatened with every raised voice
of children pretending they they
are even a quarter of her age.
Her smile tattoos my brain;
a giddy afterimage to ponder as
Aaron turns away to keep me close.
Written by Jason Wright
October 23, 2017