A Quarter Past Time to Move On
Lightly torn girl of summer
Swaying leaves float all over the sky.
A black diamond achieves brilliance.
Shoot the bullet that burns a hole through the heart.
You left after the locked door.
Your bright smile appears to be unclear.
Stand at the shore.
Turn around just to be given away.
He’s hungry for you.
There is no substitute for starving
You finally gave it away for nothing.
You’re not to blame.
Forlorn eyes, clouded with doubt.
It’s a loss to understand.
Send for the dawn.
Jennifer Fauci graduated from Adelphi University with a degree in English Literature and Communications. She writes poetry, children’s stories and YA fiction. Her freelance work can be seen in Newsday, The Patch.com and The Latin Kitchen. She has a passion for travel, creative writing and loves anything British. She currently lives and writes on Long Island, NY.