Come for me
when the lawn mower is still and cold
resting in its shed as cats prowl with mocking yawl
a world colored black and white by moon shows nothing
of her earthly devour
when heady in day she is every which way a gala of color
scolding you for your down turned mouth
though it would look beautiful in a painting vast in yellow
I would place you next to a vase
and grow wings on your scars
come for me
when leaning out the window I call your name
from one continent to the other can you hear me?
I feel somehow the tremble on this light thimble of pain
connecting us as if we were both sharing
the same space
and though we are not if I call loud enough
you may hear my migrating entreaty
come for me
as once you did and everything hurtful momentarily stopped
like a razor losing its sharp
like a hand paused before slap
I ran fast from my callous
and found you hanging upside down by your knees
eating late damsons
careless of boxes meant for our capture
you said
take a page out of my book
I never ironed myself straight
I kept my curls hidden just in case
one day they should stop needing shoes
and we can return
two by two
set over the ocean
arcing in gain
I will find you
I will sight the land
glistening in
our claim
TheFeatheredSleep 