, , ,


It's dark, this space

without an umbilical chord 

attaching me to confinements or

a birthing into new

my poets save me

from being alone

words written in white 

framing window sills

draining summations through gaps

too small for my own mouth

to breathe through

No one says

how dark the darkness is

if they cannot see

yet to suffuse a thing

as clear as rain ...

Β© 2017 Tammy Mezera