The Starry Night

The Starry Night

after Van Gogh

It haunts me, the stars
yellow eyes peering behind

curling clouds, like wild waves
foaming in my dreams. I wake

on the edge, the precipice
of sleep. I turn to the moon

for strength but through its
teeth you can hear the sneer.

‘Jump’ whispered in winds.

By Romina Writes

She/Her Made In Portugal Based in Manchester, UK Bilingual BA Creative Writing @ UoB Poet/Fiction Writer/Freelance Editor Sub-editor for The Bolton Review issues 7 & 8. 'Half Moon' selected for The New Writing Showcase 2019. ‘Trouble’ and ‘If I Knew Then What I Know Now’ selected for The New Writing Showcase 2020.

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