Poetry Day… what?

oops. I fell off the bandwagon for a little bit. Here’s a poem to make up for my laziness:

What We Remember

The last time I saw you
I was one half woman
one half fingertips
drumming a steering wheel
and Holy Hill Wisconsin backwoods
chased us

and I didn’t know the devil
and the devil was at our heels
and the cigarette smoke
was our shrine
and we thought we understood
because my bare feet pressed
the dashboard
as we passed Funk road

and I was one half cliff
memorizing the air,
one half falling to meet Lake Michigan

and I thought I was anarchy
and I pressed myself into places
I didn’t fit

and I thought you were no devil
and I wasn’t as afraid as I thought

and I’m still fingertips
I’m still a country anthem

I’m still fuel on fire


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