By Anna Canny
Images in grainy blue. Horoscope says
Rose (moon)
colored glasses.
Trembling, crooning
when he takes me in his arms
I learned those chords.
Heaven sighs
sun-lined clouds ruin the charm of
cold, picking fingers.
I’d like to cry
Imagine everyday words
we baked fresh bread
I’m wearing warm socks tonight.
Do you ever listen to your own breathing?
life in pink, life in short
magic spells, short gasps
you can make your own head spin.
