by Jeffrey Kingman
I’m dissolving into a girl on a pier on a lake.
I thought you might see yourself that way
my washy pastels.
If there is a pier and a lake
you might come along as a pair of eyes
a singularity
and all you can do
is remember that hurtful thing.
Suppose it’s delightful
the warm breeze
rippling water
but I don’t feel it?
They will be looking at you. Just let them.
They’ll help you feel it.