The Bookshop Sessions #14

so easily 

everything gave you

your eyes would tell then meet

that first time I saw you running from living 

inhaling death, truly alive 

Ohhh Didn’t I 

You would slowly move time

and will into,

The collision

A crash

La Lune

Cracking open the mountain top 

For a misty morning getaway

the blue clouds 

descend

swallowing whole

A fallen star emerges

A new earth with two legs walks this way

While the wings of a heron watch you fall

Straight back to the second floor window ledge with a pillow arresting your ceiling stares. 

Cracks. Shadows. Alarms.    Lights. 

Paint. Pores. Hands.     Warm. Dessert.

Lead—Gold. Gone

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What are books without the hands?

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The Bookshop Sessions #13