Will

5
(1)
You draw my will out
Through my skin.
It sits,
Dewy opals,
On the curves of my neck
Until you scoop it away
With barely open lips.
TagsFreeform Poetry
Shannon Richards
Shannon lives outside of Cleveland where she homeschools her two children. Since she was young, she has loved running off into the woods to write stories and poems, look for space ships, and dance fairy rings.
Related articles More from author
Everyday Beauty
March 25, 2024Reluctant Defiance
October 14, 2024Autumn Leaves
September 20, 2021My Mother’s Strength
January 22, 2024The Witching Hour
September 18, 2023









