The reading period for Issue 3 is open till midnight on April 3rd. Please send your best and curliest submissions to me at: reubenwoolley52@gmail.com. I’d be grateful if you would put your name and Curly Mind in the email title as follows: Poet’sNameCurlyMindsubmission.
She wraps her nights in layers,
hides tender skin
and packs her tears
between white tissue.
It starts small – ribbons laced
round wayward slaps
that avoid her flawless face.
She breaks manicured nails
camouflaging its cargo
of burns and bruises,
scarves her neck
concealing fingerprints.
Until it’s too massive to manage,
too painful to contemplate –
noosed so tightly
she’s unable to breathe.
..
‘though i do not think there is one’ says the bear. the bear is taking up a lot of room today.
‘tell me about the earth please?’
look it has layers, bone and blood, yet there are seeds for growth. some fear endearment,
while others do not.
‘why the blood’
old wounds, yet there is more in some places. i have seen the hill of the dying,
it is over the mountain.
‘how sad, may i go see, please?‘
yes bear, now shall we talk of puffy clouds and small faces?
sbm.
