by Tiffany Morris
A woman is laughing
to love songs on the radio,
her vintage gold Cadillac stalling where
streetlights stretch thin. Pull over
[to the shoulder. Notice how
her sigh tastes]
There is smoke somewhere [in a forgotten field].
Behold her bruiseknuckled beauty: bite your lip &
prick your hand on rose petals.
Rub your tongue over the coral ledge of
a chipped tooth.
It draws blood or
it doesn't.
There is decay somewhere
& salt on your hand.
Grab at nothing. Grab at
her grey laughter. She'll
burst into a thousand embers
& vanish clear into
the darkening cathedral
of stars.
TIFFANY MORRIS is a Mi’kmaw writer from Nova Scotia. Her horror fiction and poetry have previously appeared in Eye to the Telescope, Room Magazine, and anthologies from Clash Books, among others. Find her online at tiffmorris.com or on twitter @tiffmorris.
In the Distance can be found in Augur Magazine Issue 1.2.
