Shoot by Carolyn Murray

Black and white fades the shoot, a dark random blood feathers to scarred skin, cricket voice caught within engorged moan, the lean back vacuous eyes thrown once, twice, thrice, four times a stillness.


Distant a scatter flip over wind blows its cone shape to a cavernous wide into battle post so blenders a flying knot course mission number 1 formation to a tight grip tow cording decayed body.  No reply necessary.