The Intrusive

By Valentina Cano

Birds flutter through my head,
wings beating up a storm of consonants
past my eyes.
Their screeches become the only light I see,
noise turning to colors turning to numbers
as I repeat phrases over and over.
Each one its own feathered creature;
each one looking for flight.

Categories: Issue 4, Poetry | 1 Comment

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One thought on “The Intrusive

  1. Cork

    And those feathered creatures will become words on paper. Nice work.

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