Radical Romance: Realities/ C.D. Sorrell


Wool jacket fastened halfway up, buttons catching the light like June Bugs

Drawing close, he whispers like a branch, one leaf rubbing another

Home comes through in the ripples in the lake as the cool wind brings me back

Summer in Razliv with the founder, the radical, the will-be revolutionary

He speaks words like viscera laid across the battlefield just so

There’s peace within his stride, an acceptance of what must be done

I feel the crust of already dried blood on the edges of his soul

His latest chapter tells of subordination, of control, and I can feel it

From across the room, the thrust of his gaze as he deciphers my brow

The pressure of my minds building as I turn the page, handwritten Cyrillic

I would see with him the realities of revolution laid bare, if he would permit it

His control, my subordination



ZbvQfUwB_400x400C.D. Sorrell is a writer and activist from Indianapolis and can be found on Twitter under the name @Real_MeatCastle







Send one poem or short prose piece, to rabble.editor@yahoo.com, with the heading RADICAL ROMANCE: [your title]. We can’t wait to read your submissions! 


Header Image: Creative Commons, Public Domain, modified.

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