poetry
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Given Words, She Comes

original art by Simone Ferguson

original art by Simone Ferguson

Most of the time when I dream
I would prefer not to wake.

When I do open my eyes
It is hard to make myself

Leave the bed. She
Is not in the world where

Legs move with feet and lips
Speak and sing so sweetly

Against my ears being conscious
Is almost worth her absence–but

Not quite. While I smile
At customers my mind skips ahead

To an imaginary future with me and
A man and a rope through the air,

A little girl with waves for hair and
Caramel skin. Her shoes click

As they hit the ground after jumping.
Their buckles shine in the sun

That colors her smile just as beautiful when
It sets as it does at dawn when

I kiss her forehead. She
Is my greatest adventure–a dynamic

That when others see in all her glory
They no longer question why

I was dead for so long without her.
The way she changes my world is

Inexplicable with words. This poem
Will grow in letters and syllables and

Spaces and still not explain why
For three days at a time

I would do nothing but cry and sleep and
cry and for seven hours a day on the clock

I would think of a plethora of ways to die
After work, transfixed on the ascension

Of my spirit to where my soul
Could be with hers, hold

Her hand, braid her her hair, tell
Her stories with her head on my breasts.

This entry was posted in: poetry

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