AugustA Poem by Amy D. Brooks
Your words fall over me, around me,
My entire body as I attempt to roam you.
I'm melting away, degrading into nothing,
You're waiting with hands out and mind closed.
We are defined where we least expect,
Orange jean shorts, darkened skin tinted gold in the sun,
Dollar pop and muted baseball games,
Collector's straws and winding film.
There are no mirrors, there are no witnesses.
Your shadow fell into the columns, disappeared,
My hands groped the block panels for the remainder of your existence.
I'm dragging myself up those tugged triple locks,
Cracking each one out of place,
Let me in, buzzers and answers and phone cards and droning dial-up.
From my crown falls corded red hair,
Dark on my face, my body, my everything, taking my sight,
Into your darkness, I've lost the sun.
© 2013 Amy D. Brooks
Amy D. Brooks
Los Angeles, CA
AboutPerpetual underestimation inflicts nothing but the constant ability to impress. more..