Badlands
by Athena Andreadis
Scoured by wind, she crouches,
all eyes, dark hollows, throat pulse.
He rises from the bed of shards,
skinned knees, flayed heart.
After such thirst, they’ll drink
from a mirage — or from a poisoned well.
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Astrogator's LogsNew Words, New Worlds |
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| Artist, Heather Oliver |
by Athena Andreadis
Scoured by wind, she crouches,
all eyes, dark hollows, throat pulse.
He rises from the bed of shards,
skinned knees, flayed heart.
After such thirst, they’ll drink
from a mirage — or from a poisoned well.