by Charlotte Hamrick
My gaze was always captured by the pale moon
mark on your bottom lip. It rested just right
of the full crescent curve,
beckoning a fingertip touch or
taste of tongue. Was it there
from birth or a scar from a mad lover’s
bite? Sometimes I see it late at night shining
just below the ceiling of my bedroom,
a fading orb from another life.
* * * * *
Charlotte Hamrick’s creative work has been published in numerous online and print journals, most recently including The Citron Review, Flash Frontier, and Emerge Journal and was a Finalist in Micro Madness 2020. She reads for Fractured Lit and was the former CNF Editor for Barren Magazine. She lives in New Orleans with her husband and a menagerie of rescued pets.
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