In His Image

Across the table, where there stands no mirror
I see myself—sitting and staring through my own body
Feel the beams of vision pierce through my sternum
Pressing into matter that pumps blood through my beating heart
Meandering around bones and fibers that carry my being
Shooting out of my back, into an unknown corner of this room
Continue reading In His Image

On Strawberry Muffins

I ate a strawberry muffin
That was so dense
It seemed to fill my shoes
With every teething bite
Thick and grainy
As if to chew on memory foam
Chomping and mulling
Into paste between my gums

I ate a strawberry muffin
Plastered with leaves of crimson
Skin curled up round edges
Slashing the bread in berry red
Blood—sweet and tart, dripping
Oozing across rose petal pockets
Flecks of orange zest squirm
Cheeks to bitter-sweet

I ate a strawberry muffin
A fusion I hadn’t tried
I found I much prefer them
As strawberries
And muffins
Than blended in a baker’s tie

The River

Poem Written By Christian J. Ashliman

Familiar waters gushing between rocks
Crashing around every boulder
A sound growing in volume
To encapsulate a waking nightmare
A time when he stalked her
Watching her every move
A slip, an error
The world comes caving in
Beneath knuckled fists
To live in fear
Is to not live at all
A guilt, a sadness, a creeping smile
She was glad she had done it
Stone after stone, tied with thick, raspy twine
Cast into an abyss of cold, wet darkness
Dragging the evil away with it
He couldn’t hurt her anymore
Not down there