Tell me that you love me…

…so I can go home

By Alexus Erin

When the dreams were buried safe
in a verdant bulrush, guiding the paved
line of the Turnpike, an expectation
to move past, at breakneck pace, into the blur
of some foreign morning
in a future I can’t recall
from intuition or vision or Déjà vu
A ferocious and gauzing ray
– too hot, albeit threadbare –
obscured the closer, that is, what’s been
living nearest to the front door
of my chest, the orangerie
whose fruit I know
Its halves belonging only to one
another, a priori
One tree, one citrus
housed in one rind
Below one skylight
Under one sun, I heard you:
elsewhere, humming
Tapping the table
with your index fingers

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s