The Blooms by Shawn Chase Winstons Smoke ‘em Crackling strings Aroma filling my ears Staccato flame burning Velvety plume vibrating in the air Choking my sensibilities Beautiful daggers slicing me open Writhing chills coalesce upon my skin Orgasmic agony screams out from within Complacency stands staunchly without Suddenly I forget where I am My identity frozen in the inhalation Suspended in the lungs of plucked metallic wire Waiting to resonate once again Blessed are the trapped moments Discovering solace Recognizing malice Releasing pent-up scorn Dispensed to purity Behold the blooms Shawn Chase is a pharmacist living in Indianapolis. He says he is a product of the love and compassion surrounding him. More of his writing can be found at unexpectedsharing.com
Flying Island is the Online Literary Journal of the Indiana Writers Center, accepting submissions from Midwest residents and those with significant ties to the Midwest.