Acid Rain Tastes Pepper Sweet In May

by: Monica Mills


twenty-three numbers in his name

it harps like snarky buzzards leeching flesh

a taste so blue burned it’s hardly not there at all


twenty-three numbers in her name

the sound of it tastes like sweet

mud of lily rivers south


smile, it gives me papercuts

count them down my arms

these peonies drowned thick in bile

where our letters converge



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About the author


Monica Mills is a Jamaican-American writer and poet. Her work appears in The Anthologist, The Normal Review, The Quiver Review, and The West Trade Review. Monica enjoys rainy days and ginger tea.


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