Congealed

The silent Vesper rattled her key into the front door, fumbling to get away from the rising sun. As she made it to a chair, she congealed and fell asleep sitting up. The only movement her body made rumbled from her pulsing heartbeats surfacing over skin. She’d only wake when the day disappeared somewhere into the lost sea.

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9 comments so far

  1. understanding alice on

    oooh i like this, feels like a snippet of a book I’d love to read

  2. Gemma on

    Love the enigma of the last line ~ transferring the idea of personal “loss” to the sea! Beautiful!

  3. gautami tripathy on

    Great, as usual!

    I hold myself in the doorway

  4. Old Grizz on

    interesting way to think of the evening star. I’m OK with that. “the pulsing of the sea waiting to wake the evening star.” This is what I see in this poem. I like your words.

  5. Dee on

    I like the feel of this – would love to see it expaned.

  6. patois on

    So very compelling. Wow.

  7. Asleep On My Feet on

    Mmm… magically mysterious… magnifico!

  8. Michelle Johnson on

    this is an incredible write. do you ever think of expanding any of these writings? hope all is well.

  9. Deborah on

    Intrigued.


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