KYSO Flash
Knock-Your-Socks-Off Art and Literature
Issue 12: Summer 2019
Prose Poem: 48 words


by Roy Beckemeyer

If you were gone, I would be brittle ice, thin globe of glass surrounding filaments incandescent, aging bone absent calcium, a mere artifact you had dipped into liquid nitrogen and struck, your arm swinging back and high above your head—the sudden hammer blow of your leaving.



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