It's Still Life

Amorphous

She remembers the summer
as hot and
prickly dry.

She spent most of it
licking moisture
on her lips,

and then her upper lip peeled,
cracked, and bled
as she gnawed

the twiggish twisty bits
with her lower
teeth.

And then the summer was gone.
Her memories
faltering,

a penny for your porous,
amorphous
thoughts.

And she stares off, wondering
what was she thinking
while her tea went all
stony cold.

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Words: 76. Artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023.