Poetry of Issue #7        Page 35

Unfinished

October 5

There’s no room here
on this thin edge
between worlds
sitting on the edge
overlooking
the last
moment
you remember
being happy
•••••••••
Interlock
the looking over

the words fall
fail
flail
cannot right themselves

who am I
temporarily
in this bubble
the light fades
the voice dimming
in the dark
I am over
ever over now

inflection
in fraction
coming
down here

I pushed my way in
for the nourishment
for the moment
the heat rising
rang
out against me
stopping time

  Lisa Bond