when she gets high
when she turns invisible
I can see the maze of her pain
disappear above the anthill


beneath the dirt
to keep the love clean
is the hardest work


(and the days are long
the nights are knives
they take everything
but no
she takes flight)


“I want to be here”
she says
tapping an index finger to her forehead
I expect to see the skin ripple
like a calm lake betraying
its depth


(and when she comes down
becomes visible
what animals pace
her pretty cage?)

 

my chemtrail romance

by Joe Quinn

 

Joe Quinn

Joe Quinn is a poet from Kentucky. His collections, including the just released We Are Plague, are available for purchase at lulu.com/spotlight/welcomehomeironlung 

Payment can be given at @Joe-Quinn-66 on Venmo

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