she awakens
with the taste of iron on her lips.
in a fog
she tugs the covers closer.
It's stuffy in here, she mumbles.
she murmurs his name
there are thick beams of sand-colored light
streaming in from the windows
What time is it? she yawns.
Babe?
she rolls over
greeted by empty eye sockets
mummified papery skin
her legs move without her permission
rocketing her to the floor.
she doesn't blink
hoping it's a dream
YOU ARE READING
P R E S E R V A T I O N
Puisi{#520 in Poetry} The world has turned to ash. Hot winds and violent storms are in its place. Whatever remains of humanity has descended into chaos. The earth is taking back what is hers in a fit of catastrophic rage. This story follows a few people...
