by Felicia Connolly

Photo by Sputniktilt via Wikimedia Commons. Creative Commons: Some rights reserved.


i ache for your
scapula scraping
my neck as our cat
bodies slumber
thru the sick days.

i want the arrowheads
of your hips plunging
into mine while
the drive for sex dies.

at the end i’m
intimate with that
sunken cheek grin,
your xylophone made
of ribs.

it’s so pristine,
this shell of you
i’ve learned to love:
your exoskeleton,
come to life.



Felicia Connolly, born and raised on the beaches of New England, now lives her best life in a small Texas town surrounded by sunshine, blue skies, and long grass. She spends her days baking and decorating cakes and her free time with her Rhodesian Ridgeback pup, Chewbarkka.

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