Another Look

by annmarieelliott

there was something bright: the taste
of sour and swarm of children by picnic
tables trading snacks at the end of a day
of god. fireflies and mosquitoes

pound at the single bulb and the blood here
spins with sugar and faith enough to sneak
out, lay by the cornfield, and cry with the stars.
you are so small
, they accuse,

and fill our mouths with the taste of it.
some of us will carry it on our tongues forever,
wondering where the joy of nothingness
and cabin whispers went.

paint over our names and stories, I watch
the white bleed down the roller in my hand.
dizziness hints at the old.

You are so small.
My mouth is filled with salt.

20 February 2010