For Cliff Rimmed with red, the sky emerges from an alcoholic haze, collapses on the shoulder of a hill. As thin-lipped as the letter box, I brush a broken bottle from the driveway: shards of glass that tinkle on the tarmac, sharp as laughter in an empty room.
Rimmed with red, the sky emerges from an alcoholic haze, collapses on the shoulder of a hill.
As thin-lipped as the letter box, I brush a broken bottle from the driveway:
shards of glass that tinkle on the tarmac, sharp as laughter in an empty room.