Black Magic

New Poem!

Conceited Crusade


She’s that crazy girl you can’t unsee.
Knives miss their mark,
or clip one sleeve. She floats above waiting

for the Saints, waiting for applause,
another act, she’s broke in –

to. Startled eyes, starving eyes,
a sea of eyes upon her dance-

For she’s that crazy girl, who just won’t flinch-

He bows and smiles right at the end.

Image Credit

Tricia Sankey

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Published by Tricia Sankey

Plays with words in her free time.

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