Steph Castor
Bonus Land
Picture a corsage
made of 44 dandelions
picked to test the
lung capacity
of a 23-year-old;
the solace in a tickle war
with hair to match her name;
one hour
–scratch that–
half an episode of sleep
where you see flowers,
but bad guys pull weeds,
or maybe
it’s the other way around;
every mile as a stilted dandelion
while you’re a weightless seed
–some “gossamer” wannabe
stuck to the cat’s back;
a familiar tunnel vision
like you’re trying
to get your high in check;
a Ruby Throated loner
Swarming the head;
a rhythmic reset
after a blood-thirsty
button mash
when CONTINUE is
the only logical
decision,
and you’re playing
for the story.
made of 44 dandelions
picked to test the
lung capacity
of a 23-year-old;
the solace in a tickle war
with hair to match her name;
one hour
–scratch that–
half an episode of sleep
where you see flowers,
but bad guys pull weeds,
or maybe
it’s the other way around;
every mile as a stilted dandelion
while you’re a weightless seed
–some “gossamer” wannabe
stuck to the cat’s back;
a familiar tunnel vision
like you’re trying
to get your high in check;
a Ruby Throated loner
Swarming the head;
a rhythmic reset
after a blood-thirsty
button mash
when CONTINUE is
the only logical
decision,
and you’re playing
for the story.
Passenger Seat
Aberdeen is her name,
not to be taken lightly
You named her
for mountains
a harbor tryst
and pressed against me
leaned in
ribs deep in the railing
A reminder to
soak in it
The lighting
looks best
when you’re dancing
It follows your hair
cascades down
your collarbone
Copper strands
pooling and spilling
over the empty space
your flux
is dying to fill
not to be taken lightly
You named her
for mountains
a harbor tryst
and pressed against me
leaned in
ribs deep in the railing
A reminder to
soak in it
The lighting
looks best
when you’re dancing
It follows your hair
cascades down
your collarbone
Copper strands
pooling and spilling
over the empty space
your flux
is dying to fill
1126
If I had a key to every room
A bouquet would garnish each window
Peruvian lilies
Or something equally animated
When they are otherwise
Impossible to find
Some might call me crazy
For driving so much
But rest assured
I’m resting
And we are both
Smelling the flowers
A bouquet would garnish each window
Peruvian lilies
Or something equally animated
When they are otherwise
Impossible to find
Some might call me crazy
For driving so much
But rest assured
I’m resting
And we are both
Smelling the flowers
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