glass, her
lips are glass
&
gold
leaves fall on her courtyard of
marbles
they are
not diseased, they
are
a dance
dying in the cracks of their
conception
Eric Mohrman is a poet & freelance writer living in Orlando. A piece of his political satire recently appeared in Defenestration, & his poetry has been published in Moria, a MOPE anthology, The Furnace Review, Portland Review, previous issues of Prick of the Spindle, & other journals.
