Author Information
Fiction Polaroids
Polaroids pale
Descending from your hands
Like a stale flock of maple leaves
Distilled by autumn friction
Polariods but flacid funeral
As the piano laments but low
In one salivary
Release
As you release your memories
To the scorch of the bonfire
For polariods are ashes left behind
From the heat of the newborn moment
In one salivary
Release
