Postapocalyptic Heartbeat

In a city made of rain
each door, a silence; each lock,
a mouth,

I walked daily through the spit-slick streets, harbingers on my hands in henna:

there will be no after

Saeed Jones, ‘Postapocalyptic Heartbeat’ from ‘Prelude to Bruise’.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s