DAY 13


in us is a line,
centering how we turn.
two poles waiting to meet
keep the earth on axles.

but avoiding hurts less,
she thinks,
her backbone curving,
more every year.

we don’t notice the wilting skyline
your arm in my arm
are rods we learn to spin in, spin out
the horizon throws a spectacular death
to hide tangled nerves and a hunch
we feel in our centers,

turn back. turn away.

Posted by:jasmine

Jasmine is an editor, poet, and community arts organizer. She comes to poetry by way of Chinese music. This blog is a mapping of ways.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s