OUR CATEGORY : Aileen Lebofsky

baby blues

Webbed lines frame perma-etched bluish-black bags under her baby blues, Every waking hour a nod, neck snaps – Rage at the moonlight that seeps through the delicate lace. She draws the curtains. She sleeps on her side, back straight, knees drawn – eyes blink open, shut, in rhythm to the tock, tock of the grandfather […]