a different four letter word
by Diamond Manning
the sweet sound of your wind chimes masked the warning shots meant to be my saviour. transformed them into distant rumbles of thunder, too faint for me to be sure of their presence. ivy ropes and hornet stinger cocktails topped with shards of glass were your recipe for Love, but Fear’s frostbite breath turned my blood to ice water and numbed the pain of each spoonful of poison – when your body is no longer yours, what good are the senses?