Enter,

and I tuck myself into the corner that remembers my outline.

This is where your trance takes hold of me.

Wedged between my pointer and middle,

traces of dreams and feelings flurry into the wind,

wisping away along a charcoal staircase

warding off reality like sage in a haunted house.

 

Continue,

painted by the hard end of a brush,

peppered, so many stars

stare at me drinking you in

and spitting you back out.

You’re sour like espresso drips,

leaking between my veins.

 

Palms raised to the sky in worship of something i don’t believe in

but things in which i do,

arcing down, the pads of my fingers

are now flush to dew drops,

bringing them down 

to light this field like a cigarette,

and now i see you as clearly as i feel you.

 

marlie sends me a text,

it’s time to go, but i’ll be back

to burrow into the corner

of you.

my feet take me back to the path,

the undertow washes me ashore to my bedroom,

until next time.

---

Ibby Suleman sees you clearly now.