- Your Eyes Blink Five-Minute Miles
Knot by knot I pulled my hair out on the ferry. Who knows what these arms are doing above my head I would lick my own face to taste the sea. Take his bulbs for their brightness. People who enjoy life make me uncomfortable. How could you love the quarry so but sleep gripping your own button-down shirt for freedom my hair playing thorns to your eyes. Our ears mistaking wind in trees for the ocean. [End Page 30]
Shauna Barbosa lives and writes in Boston. Her work has appeared in Metazen, Sundog Lit, and A Bad Penny Review. When she is not writing full poems, she is writing looming half poems somewhere on the Internet. Or event planning. She can be found at shaunabarbosa.com.