Lilac Boats, Painted in Mahogany
Maybe that’s why we just drifted away.
The wooden frames of platonic boats
can’t handle the rocky currents anymore
chips float on the shoulders
of waters in peoples’
till someone cleans the water)
I have too many chips in my pond.
I am a busted sculpture
made of Georgia red clay,
waiting for it to rain so I can fall to pieces
on the ground
waiting for rednecks
to have a marathon in my own self,
getting them dirty in
it’s never been so beautiful
to get my hair wet in the rain,
Only this time,
I’m not worried about my curlsknotting.
Nor the runoff to my lake.
Elliott Bradley is a lover of all things great: movies that are so pleasant they make you forget the patriarchy exists; raspberry chocolate-chip ice cream; love poems; the color of a jealous soul; how it doesn’t match nature’s hue. They are an arising poet and prose author that has been previously published in Teen Ink & Rag Queen Periodical. They can be found on Twitter & Instagram @ayeelliottmyguy, but can also be found in the nearest library, SAT Prep Center, debate tournament, or where there’s music