OverTheRainbow

1

our friendship needs no labels; the kind of thing where

we ride back from a college basketball game together

on a bus too bright for March and, 

voice raspy from shouting,

circle: the roundedness of a

marshmallow spent too long in your pocket,

meant for my mouth; the almost-perfect

eternity

of your fingernail as you traced my collarbone

remarking how winglike our shoulders were;

the title page has a heart drawn upon its yellowish hue,

C+M on an arrow, almost but not quite covering

TEN POEMS: VOLUME ONE and I turn the page quick,

eager to see this play out,

the world is colder than before

north winds exhaling dragon breath across the valley and

my doorstep where i wait for the bus (bumblebee against concrete),

rubbing my hands together and

lines on the road paralyze me redefine me reignite a sort of otherworldly longing in me orange blurs into yellow blurs into black lines blink in and out of a parallel existence / red was never a factor in this but you could never chalk red into yo