Poem: I am Dramatic

I swerve in cursive
like the signatures of colonial women
who gave birth to thousands
because it only takes a second to exist
and a moment to die

 

I type in distress
because I point forward
aligned with the arrow
of messages needing a response

 

I hang up the blood moon
to remind us of our kinship,
of annotations clotting
our preternatural bond.

 

© 2017 Melissa Currence

 

This poem came from a prompt from my poetry group: Write a poem inspired by the theme that the act of writing is a matter of life or death.

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