Out Of Reach, Published by “Women Around Town” 1/3/19

You say it’s dangerous
you say it’s too risky to be alone
            it is winter
I lay in a field
in the frost      the bridge across from me
my hand on my chest             
my skin is hot
(like desert sand)
I am not sick

I close my eyes
and can hear the lady, whistling
on the park bench, smell
the breeze, the fiery wood
I picture the crack in your ceiling
electric-blue light on your desk
I place a hand in my pocket
grab a loose thread
twist it between my fingers until it burns 
like the tip of a recently extinguished match
I unravel
silent as stone             eyes open
I whisper your name 
beneath the crest – 
ink-faded         red dusk  
I listen
 Published January 3rd, 2019 by Women Around Town