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| Mirac Sendil |
the words are hidden
in the remnants of grease on
the frying pan hands toil to scrub
clean ; through the sunless day
those masterpieces: clouds
cognizant of their thick splotches
of paste , or it cognizant of them
beseeched by the pouring out
of a heart run through with the
bone brittleness of black love
sung onto concrete dried after
it is drenched with rain that has
become soundless in its own
sanctuary
© Melissa Lemay
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| Melissa Lemay |
Melissa Lemay lives in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, with her children, cats, and dog. She writes about God, addiction, trauma, healing, motherhood, and many other things. She enjoys spending time with family, drinking good coffee, and being outdoors. She loves animals. Her poem, “Ephemeral”, was chosen as Poetic Publication of the Year for 2023 at Spillwords Press; she was Author of the Month for July 2024 and Author of the Year for 2024. Find her at melissalemay.wordpress, collaborature.blogspot, and at dVerse Poets Pub.
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