Michael E. Strosahl

Spilt

Michael E. Strosahl

“I don’t usually wear red,” she said as she tried to clean up the stain— bleaching out the blood on blood— “It tends to wash me out.”

Her face was already pale, edges failing to a memory fog— I struggle to remember when she last showed a blush beyond what she spilled— she was soaked into everything.

She burned off like a mist into morning, eyes streamed with ashes as she made her escape with the late autumn winds.

“I should have married in white,” she whispered, her lips touched in wine.

The stain stubborn and fast set, her voice fading into the woods— the blood went everywhere.

Michael E. Strosahl is a midwestern river-born poet, originally from Moline, Illinois, now living in Jefferson City, Missouri. Besides several appearances in the Tipton Poetry Journal, Maik’s work has appeared in Flying Island, Bards Against Hunger projects, on buses, in museums and online at indianavoicejournal, poetrysuperhighway and projectagentorange. Maik also has a weekly poetry column at the online blog Moristotle & Company.