// Thoughts In the Floorboards Underneath My Bed with Monsters //

This is the space I hold and release between us. It is old and broken wood,
the smell of dark cherries and wine.

Fear from me
is separate,
of joy and sorrow,
I am twice removed.

A round room encircles
a cage which encircles
two birds as they are made to
adapt.

Blind is not blind in the way you listen, from the heart.
The seed contains the tree.

No eyes. Look here: no hands.

You track mud across
my mind
and I have come forward alone

to plant
and grow clouds among the weeds.

Still shine.

What worlds you open into that look in your eyes,
hand over hands held in mine.

We walk through rivers made of streets
moving, windspans underneath the wings
of concrete and glass, shattered collisions
glistenwhite in flight.

Warm blanketing creased faces;
all creatures aware of the dark

will turn themselves

to light.

.

.

 

8 thoughts on “// Thoughts In the Floorboards Underneath My Bed with Monsters //

    1. Allison Marie Post author

      Oh bless you! I am overjoyed you appreciate the formatting as more rich than what is allowed on some other social media platforms. Thank you SO much for taking the time. It melts my whole heart when someone appreciates all the facets of a poem. So much love I send you, kindred soul. ❤ ❤ ❤

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  1. wbdeejay

    Such care taken to prepare, to present, to reveal. I appreciate it all. I especially return to these words “This is the space I hold and release between us.” Such a connection there. ❤️

    Like

    Reply

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