Mar 13, 2021
2 min read
03 March 2021 Wednesday Prose Poem Prompt: what wounds look like as they heal
Serrated
A Prose Poem
The dressing table is fastened within the skeleton of the photo album,
and each page was a new reflection to see my own numbing winter
Now, these images ought to see through the velvet, blood-red amalgam
They say to smile a little — but then don’t look through these filters
