she's on the other side
beyond windows
and tv screens
beyond fretting and
sterile waiting roomsshe bubbles in my mouth
and begs me for a taste
of an acid or a base
or something
neithershe's somewhere out there
happily crucified
in the wildflower valley
you'll see her
slip a finger or two
down my spinal columnshe calls it
a roman pillar
a grecian colosseum
a native totem pole
fondlyjust beyond the barrier
she's extending a hand to me
as if the weather
is somehow
pleasanta/n: a liminal space between its's inconsequential birth and it's insignificant death.
YOU ARE READING
escapril
Poetrybathing in spring showers. basking in cool shadows. a poem everyday in April. Copyright 2019 @timespieces