- poem 3, spring 2022 - September 21, 2022
- sestina 1, spring 2022 - September 21, 2022
- poem 2, spring 2022 - September 21, 2022
I am standing in front of a window. There is a disco ball reflecting light onto me. I reflect.
My body’s been released recently,
Eloped with gravity, content
Each roll tumbles closer to the floor
I am only twenty three, mind you!
So it’s hard to see the sense in it all
As light speckles the wall behind me
Flecks land on my stomach, its breadth
Made true by the vastness of the sun
I turn, the light is on my back
Behind me lingers the impossibility of
A different kind of youth, a sweet,
Hopeful eternity of valleys and craters
I am hills and plateaus today
Rolling, but finite and lush
Gravity has less to say back here,
Behind is suppleness and vigor
My cheeks are on his only pillow,
Grabbing at his inevitably navy sheets
My wake is pitch black, my stomach
And chest too, revealed sourly by
The singular beam sneaking under
A door that’s been locked for a while
My back is a very famous bridge
The nearby clock is consulted again
I can see the sense in it now
The plummeting cliffs, the eminences
My landscape is for the
Expansive windows and disco balls
Which I have granted it,
Not the grunts and shifts of
A man that glances at the flecks
And flicks the switch on the wall
so nice Olivia! Really wonderful poem!