FEARS
Their eyes move
From belly to finger
Finger to belly, and
They are scowling
As if something is mistaken
Or missing
and
Their eyes are moving
Up to meet my own
As if searching for a glimmer
Of the sin that must be stored there
And that Southern Hospitality
Feels achingly absent
For once
For now
About Me
- Julia P.
- New Orleans, La, United States
- I like to write about the things in this world that excite, anger, and inspire me.
