Sharp Edges


I was inside a world of black and white.

When you took my hand

and led me up the hill.

Where you said  the rainbow lived.

I stood at the edge

until the rock bore the imprint of  my blood.

It felt slippery

beneath my bruised feet,

but you’d promised you’d make your arms into a large wing

and your shoulders a shelter for my bones.

I grew in you.

I sensed colors.It was breathtaking.

I took my gasp of air from your exhales in my collarbones

and rested my weary hand in your sweaty palms.

My knees shook as I stepped to the margin.

to look into a garden of rosebushes

in bloom.-

A photo of a future in a frame.

One you’d put on a nightstand

to be the last image before falling asleep.

And as I was looking down into the abyss

you removed your hand.

And left.


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