give me a small, flat edge
one I can balance on
foundations of abstract silence.
A point, a segment, a ray
of digital collapse
where these bouncing rapids
of life-sized disappointment
may go for early retirement
with the residue of sine, cosine,
and tangent of all my past lovers
still calculable upon my flesh.
From clavicle to ankle bones, I’ve carried me,
wandered public courtrooms, bars, hospital halls
without lecture, without solvable equations
to study my reflection in the flecks of
my observable emptiness is a clinical chair
managing expression with no effort.
a small, flat edge
© Grace Black
I also dabble with poetry prompts on Instagram. Follow me there, @graceblackink, for more daily poetry and play along. Do you dabble in wordplay as well? Let’s create!
Love and Ink,
cc image from Unsplash