Tag Archives: Janae Green

From the Womb

Posted on December 3, 2013 by

Men won’t return Margret’s calls. There was a time when hers was the face in that flicker before the bedroom light turned off. Now there is no beauty in the way her skin lies. Flesh forms her cheeks at irregular … Continue reading →

Posted in Fiction, Reprint | Tagged | Leave a comment

Sewer Drains

Posted on June 13, 2012 by

Suspicion is the smell of a sewer drain. Its fingers tug at the skirts of women, cutting holes into nylon stockings. The naked truth of skin blurred beneath fabrics where the whispers reek. It laughs down there with mouthfuls of … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 1 Comment

Baby Clothes

Posted on June 13, 2012 by

Wetness of the eyes, the faces, and the eyes, the eyes, the eyes all anticipate her touch. She tears at her skin and lets the flesh drip the laughter grin. Heartbeats covered with the price of skin. The rind sweats … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 2 Comments