AvaClaire

Molasses on her lashes
Blink
Blink 
Stick
Blink
Pressed up against
the paint
a shade
that never went out of style
lips sealed
she couldn't quite
recall the last time 
they had parted
nose

They spread layers

Of bloom

Like a billowing

Skirt

But only

When black

    Strokes their

    Leaves

    Popping

I found myself 
Sprawled across the lawn
Because at the moment
I have time to spare
The dirt slightly chilling
My sweatshirt
The wind huffing
cool fingertips
on my forehead
The laundry machine
a humming cicada

What if,
as you lay on your bed
swim through the crowds 
wander about the kitchen 
you're lost
in your own house
in your own school
waiting for the map to make sense
what if,
between sheets of skin

Humor arrives with little hooks
fishing lines tightening
As they yank 
on the corners of your lips
even when the mouth
forms an unamused stripe
two sad worms
slipping
towards your chin

Sometimes I run by the cow field.
As you may have guessed,
mottled creatures cut lines through the grass.
I always stop.
Wind pulling the hair
that is jostled from my ponytail,
I watch the beasts