ship – Jordyn Saelor

night scythe

Sauce up some soups with no spices some oils with no prices rices on spoils rise on spools of sallow schooners.

Let me stray to seas, where the edges of my soul won’t cut your ship’s hull. –the end. Except…here’s a lot of drafts I wrote when coming up with this idea– My soul’s harsh edges rub against the glass ceiling when I dance alone — Dancing here, my spines seek solitude. — Let me beContinue reading “Find Comfort Here (a haiku)”