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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Seahorse” Down in the Dirt, v194 (the 4/22 Issue) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology The Ice that Was the Down in the Dirt Jan.-April 2022 issues collection book		get the 420 page Jan.-April 2022 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

Order this writing in the book Running Out of Time the 2022 poetry, flash fiction, prose, & art collection anthology		get the one-of-a-kind poetry, flash fiction, prose, artwork & photography collection anthology as a 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

The world

Maria Petkova

from my fantasy
is a crumbling moon.
The sculptures beg for water
their outstretched hands
grabbing for you.
Because my father is always busy
I welcome ghosts into my room.
They leak from the paintings,
from empty computers.
Every night they howl at the sky
eager eyes blazing beneath the harlot moon.
He has abandoned us,
all we have left
is this fantasy world.
The crumbs of the moon
shook the house
like thunders.
Small things create fire.
Ghost horses fly
from my window
into the hallways.
Twisted hooves
shatter the glass bible
on the table.
A cyclical sight
of floating half-light.
I’ve never felt so wrong.
There are splinters
everywhere.
Laughter
is a throne
of leaves.
In the moon-shaped mirror
a silhouette glistens
terrible with darkness.
No real people
live here.
The world is going fifty miles
per hour.
A broken clock
cries tears
of paper.

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