Poem from the Still Small Voice

Under the CoversBy Nordette N. AdamsUnder cover of scars crissrossing the torso, purple-blue etchings mesh into one nest stubborn spirits of slurs escaped from inept exorcisms, hiding an impostor's beat. This metronome times the rise of withering supplications. Alone, she skates figure eights, the eternal curve. If only she could swerve off the deepening grooveto sail a new arc high through air,

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