Two Poems

The One Called Sunday

One day, we will all turn into choir girls—all soft
and hollow inside. We shall wear white turning
whiter inside out and borrow tiaras from angels
writhing under our feet. We will kiss altar boys
inside the confessional then wait to get caught;

Want to read the rest?
Please login.
New to Narrative? sign up.
It's easy and free.
The password field is case sensitive. Account & Password Help.