My pubic bone was split and left with an 8mm gap.
I began writing in only 8 lines for a month.
The 8 Line Challenge was born.
It’s time for another one.
The prompt was – droplets.
Here are my guests:
Danielle Aubenque is an ex-theatrical, a poet, and a priestess. Here’s what came out of her brain:
As So The Rains
Cyclical as the dance of rain
From tears to life to tears again
Globules of liquid flowing
Seeds of change always sowing
Thunderous roar to snuffing hush
Tin-pan crackles to sweaty flush
So like these droplets are we
Spinning through all seasons with ease
Danielle is a mother and not a blogger. She prefers not to link to any online profiles, so you instead must bask in her mystery.
Kim Rullo is a mother, conceptual artist, disco dancer, conceptual transvestite, and lego architect. Her brain streamed this out:
I exhaled towards the mirror as I prepped my station.
Droplets of my spittle lay on the glass a result.
“The third Tuesday of the month, the vilest of days,” I thought.
The last bottle of Black No. 9, she was coming in, and so are her
tiny, annoying roots.
I hate her smugness, her Twilight T-shirts, her pretense, her
condescending conversation based on unspeakable banality and post
I creak a smile through my pursed lips as she spouted on and on about
Nietzsche, Thom Yorke, Robert Smith, and others as if she had no idea
how boring, blasé, and tired her references were.
Droplets of blood pierced through my dry lips as I bit down, nodded,
and agreed halfheartedly.
Honey chestnut was her color… drip, drip, drip, through the nozzle;
blah, blah, blah, filled the air.
Kim blogs at Motherblue.
Thank you, ladies. My pubic bone loves you.
here. Look for another 8 line challenge on the 8th, 16th, and 24th of the month.