M. Hank

her magenta marker

the silent clock

my desk, now darker

with dust like chalk.

his name in my phone

my swimming mind

his teeth were like moonstone, 

mouth open that night.

There’s a dog that sits on the end of my street—

he barks at anyone that nears,

snarling teeth that glow shiny in the afternoon light. 

There’s a dog that sits on the end of my street—

One day, I want to be as strong as my shadow;

waking up, running,

falling asleep, dreaming.

Made from muscled arms and soft angles. 

            555 Far Away College Dorm
            City with No Cornfields, Peach State 
            661.9 Miles Away, USA 

and—

time
(itsoveritsoveritsoveritsover)
stops.

there

are
tears
in
your
eyes,
mascara
smeared

I come here to

express myself

semi-anonymously,

but freely

and happily.

My laptop is

bombarded with

tabs, one of which

is YWP.

Always.

I may not

write a poem