claradi
everything was not. the pictures glistened on every wall, but could not be touched. the sun shone off their edges--smiling faces of families and cars and trees. nothing could stop them but a fire. maybe a fire was all that was needed.
it was still cold and a little red
the marks on the side of his thigh
where i had bruised last night but
couldn't stop. i know he doesn't mind--
keeps it as his secret--my claim on
him.
you moved across the runway and a lump appeared in my throat. you took my heart out with you, and i haven't gotten it back since.
i took too much liberty in what i wanted to say but never did. it was as if every other word from my mouth was invisible, unspoken. i woke too tangled in all the fighting.
i sat below the trees thinking, with ice in my milk. about how the sky matters, how the birds are silent now. about how everything stills in the morning.
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treesstopfiresatthinkingicemilkskymattersbirdssilentnowstillsmorninglibertyword