I am in danger of not becoming a statistic. my heaven is a long line of people standing beside each other and stepping forward in succession to say let there be light. touch is my sense of touch applying for a transfer. I have lost my wife to the smallest darkness. it tells her to surround a baby’s bottle. my mother returns every year to the same spot as if it’s a microwave. a water fountain from a ghost town.
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
I am in danger of not becoming a statistic. my heaven is a long line of people standing beside each other and stepping forward in succession to say let there be light. touch is my sense of touch applying for a transfer. I have lost my wife to the smallest darkness. it tells her to surround a baby’s bottle. my mother returns every year to the same spot as if it’s a microwave. a water fountain from a ghost town.
Request permission to use this poem