All posts tagged: Muriel Cuissard

TONIGHT by Muriel Cuissard

Tonight is heartache and black teeth like charcoal wrapped pearls.

It’s hollow heartspace and empty hands, like hands / that once held branches of flowers / but dropped them / on the way home
It’s a kid crying outside the window, as if he was the siren from within, warnings going on / and / off in the 3rd of September’s night sky […]