I cannot breathe because the day went well
Knows who heard the music
Though the city’s a flatline in the river is ice
I can tell that people have been singing
We don’t dress for the dead, but for making a match
And throwing laughter for witnesses for proof
We don’t cleanse for the monsters and gawkers and Thieves
But for A ceremony of living with truth
There is but one breath that made it to my core
And my head knows the light of the skies now
And I can make out the lilies of next spring
The ice fading from the sun’s smiling plough
I thought I would fall, through reason and love,
To swim in the depths of despair
But the hands of the trees are ever reaching out
Begging me to continue to care
I’m sick now be throbbing and smiling eyes,
And there’re clangs in my head like accidents
But the ugly has known me and let me be today
Rather than stealing a chomp of my innocence.
By: Sarah C Louise
Month: February 2015
Mateo in the magic basement
Tasted in a tumult of tender tension
Mateo and I tried to speak about music
When it became clear that we didn’t know the same words
We resorted to hands and glottal stops and cooing and chords
A vocabulary he’d also relied on
Rhythm. Rhythm. He showed me where to stretch
Flicking his strings like a tender caress
I kept up, past pockets and silver-lined words
And looked to his eyes for my cue to turn
When the song was beyond calculation
His smile was an orpheum of treasure erected
I am timid of my memory of this captivation
Mateo and I built our own sensations
And it was clear then that the world is nearly absent
Of those lovers that will learn how to speak as a friend
By Sarah C Louise
The woman on 124st leaving the bus behind
The cutest are those ladies
with slick shoes in dirty winter
who step off the bus
and arrange their immaculate coat before charging through
their first step
on their way to their
next scheduled sanctuary
By Sarah c Louise
Sarah C Louise 