By Amy Simone Piller
I think of you
before slipping to sleep
Eyes slowly
closed open
close
Worlds whirl and spin
almost touch
Meet me just here
on the corner of fields
quiet with wildflowers
intersecting nothing
where horizons are known
by oceans alone
over sands warm with sun
Enough we have already
Enough we already know
Do not speak
Take bloom
Beckon
unknown
allure
I let you enter me
rising moon
By Amy Simone Piller
Sand beholden to tides alone
Shift the curve of my body
From your shore we can gape
the distant horizon
so close to grasp
but spinning
Nothing still
near and far
all at once
Longing for
There
where there is no here
Take focus hostage
let contrasts blur
Sand against water
Water near to sky
Meld me gently
let me defer
Make tangled hair
skin tingle
heat within blur
Background boats
engines off
silent present
create almost
Waves collapse
will the [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
Bewildered pale people
watch the patch by their stoops
as if they have not yet had coffee
imaginary computer amiss
We notice the absurdity
of looking at the light change
green to yellow to red
Inordinate amounts based on this
As much to do as ever
only now we smile
it is spring
By Amy Simone Piller
A staff member
loses his mind
attacking a child
I pull him off of her
He shouts and towers over me
I stand still
speak firmly
hold steady
hand straight
towards his chest
He dissolves
a character
in a video game
I am shaking
children walk quietly
to classrooms
You hold me
I cry
We walk
upstairs
By Amy Simone Piller
Chivalry and hesitation
Who will come
from what
to where?
Are we here
when you hesitate
for a moment only
and I come to pass
because you open the door
to where the air is thin
and breath slightly short?
No Norman door conversation
no window dressing
Door open with a gentle breeze
glancing my leg accidentally
Shoulders square
legs dividing yours
In a dream I reach
for the door handle
it shifts
like a [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
The hot egg hard boiled
tossed change for bodega chips
The rush to school
the bus stop street glance
hurry up and wait
Childish excitement atop stairs
and elderly hands grip railings
all going somewhere
Years pile on years
sediment calcifies
red lining
gentrifies
We are so much like raindrops
in our small circles and big circles
all at once
Maybe more like puddles
constant splashing about
Apoptosis
circling life
beginning and end
If I [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
Glasses have rims
what lies outside
stays blurry
What about
contacts?
Solutions accrue
The thing about umbrellas is
they’re nice to have
and you still get wet
we say peering over spectacles
in our warm homes
where things work
while wind blows
For the smell of Earth
after it rains
say thank you
By Amy Simone Piller
Good morning snowflake
How kind of you to come
Have you been planning
for this journey long?
What was it like
falling along?
Did you speak
or just endure?
Did you suffer
or more enjoy?
And when you landed
did you cry?
Did the end come early?
Or just right?
Might we all
search the skies
and land so soft
seamless ride
By Amy Simone Piller
I.
Tempt me temper tantrum
take me to the place
where I am allowed
to scream and shout
all day long
let it all out
no space for gray
no control
no reality beholden to
but not alone
II.
Some things are not meant to be
untangled broken headphones
necklaces of lost love’s
nightstands cluttered
Could’ve would’ve [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
Sometimes words do not improve truth
Is it too much to ask
to keep the bubbles afloat
and know they are only bubbles
to bathe in the puddle
that might be just a reflection
to let yourself feel wet?