By Janelle Finamore
Rushing towards extinction on a Ferris wheel of doubt The heavy night air like an elephant thickens my heart with lust You look in the mirror at the unmasked moon and beg for its glow The wind clothed in desperation and desire striving to become a quiet monk You strangle the wind while the circles whir, us a tangled mess Licking my wounds as the darkness swallows us into its mouth. We fear a black hole ending As we move recklessly, sliding down the throat of the night sky.
#1 As the dog slept on the bed I crouched down and tried to kiss him but he snapped his jaw At my nose and I pulled away buried my head into the pillow of my boyfriend’s freshly made bed #2 As you sat on the couch in my living room I moved my lips towards yours while you slowly tried to reciprocate and fell into the light of new love’s burning sun #3 As the dentist scraped my teeth with a smile Glimmering pearls whiter than mine he said to brush the front then the back so my teeth will be as bright and happy as his.
Her ears clanged with his categorical righteousness Unclaimed by his frozen thoughts and outright blunders, she searched for tender minutes. Eviscerated freedom, hours of blindness. Staring into the face of a country in danger of losing its integrity by six feet. A nation six feet away from normalcy. Six feet where you can’t see or hear. Six feet where you can’t feel or touch. Six feet where you can’t kiss. Six feet where you can’t live. But less than one foot away, was this shouting pandemonium, long finger disapprovingly shaking its head at her. She vomited the tornado that was bubbling inside of her and he was swept away. But her ears would forever clang.