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Thorns

Thoughtful Gay Oddysseys

I watch with compassion

as my little shadow

skitters along the edges.

Hair, a snarl of thorny promises.

Eyes, a place where the universe

used to sing every morning.

Breath, a shower of ice.

A warm voice

now frosted

into numb silence.

Thorns

Jan 07, 2025 - By Rebekah Wardell

Rebekah Wardell profile photo

Rebekah M. Wardell

is the author of numerous scribbly journals, none of which will see the light of day. When they are not writing, you could find them reading, hiking, and laughing with their family in the parks and woods of the PNW.