Editorial Board

Loveless
And there she stood
A sheep in wolf ’s clothing
With long black tendrils like snakes
And dark black dress
With a manufactured sneer
That smelled like the bitter
Taste of one too many
Sorrows washed down at
The expense of friends.
Hidden behind the smoke of tattoos
And covered in a loveless
Skin of bitter rants.
As she stumbled into
My lair my mouth watered
At the sight of innocence.
Paul Talbot