thirty day poetry challenge
day 01 – ‘unopened‘
like her legs the night of the yellow-dress party (and her
yellow hair) his skin still
caught in her throat. she said — I don’t care
what your grandfather says
can’t we take this far away and
crash into immortality,
the city a loud and bright envelope the party
girls standing, watching the steps
fall into marble oceans, screaming — hold
on, the steps descending. she was
standing with them
the foam crashed up around her but
did not meet her consume
her; how many girls have you met
like this, in the city,
where you are forced to declare love
and watch them leave sinking politely
and violently, like well-named
battalions.
the last pavilion 