Scoring vastness out of alabaster with the scrape of his teeth, the baby
blue sky tinged the idea of naked —
Secondary pauses at the end of his skin, thigh meat meeting hip, the
black scar of a body behind a fence.
Cut from barbed-wire-sprinkled wrists to prevent my hazel, swallowed
down in the dirty secret of his coffin —
Old shoes scramble out to see him at the floor of sundown, and screw
the phone call left by three short words.
~~
Born and raised in nowhere, North Carolina, currently residing in Washington State, Kit Haynes is an ardent high school senior, studying all forms of art. Previous features in Eroticism and Archive prompts from Nowhere Girl Collective exemplify Haynes’ adoration for poetry and adeptness in literary endeavors. As a writer, poet, photographer, and film student, Haynes is interested in surrealism, gothic horror, and the intersection of words and meaning.
