Ode to being gone.

I was riding o the high.
when the voice sank.
Muddled
& confused.
Reaching from unknown waters.
Beds placed in orders.
& disorders.
Wrapped upon a red vessel.
A girl.
Placed out of Her known waters.
& subtly coughed upon dining room tables.
She the contender.
She the rose no marry.
She the lovely wearing flannels in bed.
& she to touch the flower within your soul.



Garrett Johnson.