M. Hank

Body nested in the damp grass, 
the sky gazes over my skin. 
Feet pulled by the still stars 
while the earth keeps racing. 

Create

writing

medium or genre

poetry

body

this is my routine;

come home from school

open to this the first chance I get

write.

Write 

write 

write 

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m not.”

“I love you.”

“You don’t.”

“You live in the stars.”

“My feet are planted on the earth.”

“But your eyes are reflecting them.”

“They’re not.”

“Believe me.”

My eyelids stay together

every blink

a little longer than usual wishing

I were still asleep

I don't remember not sleeping

last night

but I guess

that's just the way it is

first block

The swirling, hazy perspective on a long summer's day. The feeling as if time has halted. Expansive blue sky dotted with lazy clouds, watched from patches of warm, tickling grass. The swish of clothing, movement.

This is from a longer project of mine, but I really liked how this stanza turned out, and I think it kind of works on its own.

I flip through the first

Couple of pages,