A Story With No Name



Safety or swords

I can’t tell what to call it

somewhere in between

when the scorch takes hold underfoot

and something whispers

I have learned it is this
moment you fly.


We fight fire

with pure simple tears

when this sky cries

and when it gets cold

because infinity has never been warm-blooded

I will build you

all you’ve ever asked for.


Sometimes you look at me

and my life folds into

minutes spent waiting.


Time zones.


or seconds

or something like magic.


I didn’t come here

calling it magic

but it has slipped

over my shoulders

just the same…


made me someone

who doesn’t call herself a dreamer

but holds them like her own.


Chapter one

of a story with no name,

we have breathed it

up and up

by being

no more than human.


It is an end somehow

but we will write it

like a beginning.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 6/17/19

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