Stomach bile rises to my throat
burning soft tissue
all these long months
stretching to years.
A yawn that will not stop
weakening my resolve.
Where are the hard truths.
Everyone seems to have
escaped merrily
to places I can’t begin
to find on a map.
A simple wish: to stumble upon
velvety green grass
under a tall spreading tree.
burning soft tissue
all these long months
stretching to years.
A yawn that will not stop
weakening my resolve.
Where are the hard truths.
Everyone seems to have
escaped merrily
to places I can’t begin
to find on a map.
A simple wish: to stumble upon
velvety green grass
under a tall spreading tree.
Susan Isla Tepper is a twenty years published writer in all genres. Her current project is an Off-Broadway Play on the subject of art and life.
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