Magnus Grace

Let me go back to the mountains 
Back to the trees 
Back to the forest who once mothered me 

Whispers travel in the halls at school

Weaving into people's brains

And people decide whether they like

What is going on

In a split second

Let me float

In a sea of poetry,

Words weaving my hair,

Verses like seawater

Trickling into my heart

And lapping against the shores

Sit in the cold gray sand. Like a sand crab,

nestle between each grain and wait

for the waves to crash on the shore. Tell me how

the beach is like the sky, a map of tiny things

i toured six different colleges over the past week

& i didn't care about the clubs

it was like a sink that was overflowing, built up and up and up.

then it was drained; the pipes rusted over; the slight drip and drip and drip.

tantalizing.

then the water rushed like geysers do, hot and momentarily solid.