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Onion Man


Introduced by gentle touch to dry

cinnamon-stick skin

that crisply cracks in fault lines

shifted by smiling eyes.

Sniff the exuding wafts of recognition,

of bare fear,

of wakened pheromones dancing

in a hand shake.


Fingerlings, rooting trust finds

softened common ground,

thawing warmth.

A natural flush of maturation,

mellowed layers from dormancy peel

back an enclosing arm, an unexpected wrap

so, snug.

Pungent invitation swirls round my waist

to touch the translucence, torn  –

my rising blood meets

that inner flesh

tenderly revealed.


Wait …                                   consider the bitterness


Hungry, hand raised, eyes meet

with stinging tears; remorse, regret,

I pull back

from breaking

far more than bread

with this forbidden meal.



Jefferson and Grampa Bday 094

Crystal Snoddon is a fledgling writer from the frozen North (Northern Canada), who loves all things word related, wakes far too early in the morning to be a party animal and has a serious lust for poetry. 🙂

*Featured artwork courtesy of the brilliant Toby Penney. To learn more about her and what she does, check out our interview here: https://sicklitmagazine.com/2015/12/04/art-with-toby-penney/

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