Whispers through me

The memory we created that night
comes asking for blueberries when I close
my eyes. Purple juice carries more weight
when pinched between two fingers.

Tomorrow jumps two ways if we let it. A comet
tells its tale for only a moment, though its arc
burns purple against black, as if we should
be expected to remember the contrast.

That night I held her hair in my fingers. Promises
of tomorrow whisper through me still, echoes
smoldering in a crescent-shaped bend near
places I had forgotten could feel warmth. 


© 2021 | Phillip Knight Scott

For GoDogGoCafe’s Tuesday Writing Prompt “whisper through me”

Published by Phillip Knight Scott

My name is Phillip. I live in North Carolina with my wife of 12 years and 5-year-old son. I am a Tar Heel born and bred and watch every Yankees game I can. I'm still searching for my own TARDIS. My first novel, "The Alien in the Backseat," is available now! https://amzn.to/3oVCG77

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