Monday, January 2, 2017


the limbs that stack so precariously
in the corner are the names
i will not touch with a ten-foot
pole, they poke and stir within
my mind, a tiny fire
and while i hear the crackling, i pretend
i do not hurt
and the vowels that sing out, round and loud,
destroy my vision,
and the consonants that reach out on repeat
collect my tears,
peace blurs
between the sky and the words building momentum
the longer i hesitate to say them, the more
they appear.