on top of me
above my head
there is a space
not air, a perception
that floats, poised,
waiting to be kissed
seized by feeling
or trampled on.
perhaps all three
the sun is not
in me,
but it was.
yet,
i am not the
angry clouds,
i am not
the gentle pindrops
of a starting rain.
i do not know
where to fall from
since the space
on top of me
can be home to catch anything
could be home to catch a placebo.
placebo: A placebo
(/pləˈsiboʊ/ plə-SEE-boh; Latin placēbō,
“I shall please” from placeō, “I please”)
a harmless pill, medicine, or procedure prescribed
more for the psychological benefit to the
patient than for any physiological effect.
i believe the space
is not capable of feeling,
so today I decided to
run an experiment:
i laid out my hands and
struck a deal with the
pavement:
“you run down the street while
I watch,”
he says,
and I think I laughed when he
brought up the whole
“look at that ass go” thing again.
I was getting chills,
but not just because it was
chilly.
the teacher came out the back gate and
asked me if I was alright.
I turned around, flustered
and said yes I’m alright
even though i was going to cry
even though i was sure
i could only see you in my mind’s eye
Copyright 2016 Golden Star Poetry