IDENTITY: HALFBORN

Waking up to the apricot baby

of a half born sky,

the orange peels and the

under layers of your skin,

the skin of your teeth and the

morning again.

 

Drives head inches higher,

roots feet into autumnal grown,

frequencies squeak higher now like you decided

to wear your electric coat and everyone got excited

to see you.

 

We work this smile line,

our line together.

“Can you keep up or would you rather

go home?”

 

Contemplate the lack of social desire,

contemplate the lack,

contemplate the self who designates the idea of

lacking,

baseball pitch to dirt mound,

line of the rainbow trout goes taught.

 

I widen my stance for incidents arrival

glance at palms to see the goddess with her

aching feet and victorious belly

lying unclothed on a bed

waiting for goose bumps.

 

By Rosalie Wilmot

 

 

Rosalie Wilmot is an American living in Thailand. She has a chapbook, Portal published by Bottlecap Press in 2015 and self-published a micro chapbook, We Grew Weeds on Scrib’d the year prior.

brandon couch

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