#103 – Woman Thirty


There is a five-car collision inside her body.
Swollen, lacerated, acid.

She lies across her bed in the middle of the day,
watches a rogue cloud wander into view.
It breaks up quickly, quirky, then vanishes behind the
open architecture
of the room.

The wreck is being cleared.
Pooled blood is soaked up.
Her swelling subsides, but she
is still pierced.

She is driving on the freeway towards
the ocean watching the sky become an opal.
Three planes emit white trails,
shape a loose triangle.

Shooting stars.
She makes a wish.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s