july – Thistle Thoughts

Warp Zone

teleport me to new terrain

there are brittle
cicada shells beneath
our feet, i’m in them,
i’m a shade, an exoskeleton

It’s been twenty four minutes since the last time I’d ever see you again.

I’ll never be a famous poet

forbidden closeness / pure proximity /
one hand on my shoulder / nothing
but gymnasium breeze on my
lace draped waist