Edge
Out near the spiral edges where the darkness
is damn near unending—
stars are microscopic pinpricks in a dark blanket
pulled over your head—
and faint voices of people
dripping from the speaker
feel like the turning on of a lamp—
you can see things again—
but
you breathe in the darkness
and it chills your lungs
creeps slowly,
inevitably,
to the bones, deep inside
past the liver, spleen & kidneys
and you know you’ve lost something
by R. Gene Turchin
R. Gene Turchin writes short stories in sci-fi, horror and toe dipping in other genres. He is currently working on a book with a twisted spin on the Dracula story. He and his wife left the old house they’d occupied for 44+ years and moved to a new development near Richmond. Recent published works can be found in: Strangely Funny IX anthology, 365 Tomorrows, The Monsters Next Door Anthology, and Stupefying Stories.
Photo by John Fowler on Unsplash
Carolyn Clink, David Clink, and Herb Kauderer, Amazing Stories’ poetry editors, are proud to present this month’s poem.
