a rust a rose | Terri Ann Quan Sing

a rust a rose

a must bare mess;

 

a loam a clump

to eat and drag

               drunk.

a warm eye

a bitter lather over-boiling;

 

a weight a water

soaking red right

through the gills.

 

an ear instead

of a fish for

my lover;

 

barbed hook in

the finger of

my backseat

brother.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Terri Ann Quan Sing is a writer living and working in Naarm. You can find her on twitter here.

 

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