By Claire Wrobel
Featured in Caesura 2020: Imago
Freezeframe
The world spins without you and
The world spins without you and
I do not know much about innocence
The world spins without you and
I do not know much about innocence
But I know you took it
The world spins without you and
I do not know much about innocence
But I know you took it
I kept count in my mind
I kept count in my mind
I kept count in my mind
Kept my face against the wall
I kept count in my mind
Kept my face against the wall
Kept rejecting each time you tried to call
I kept count in my mind
Kept my face against a wall
Kept rejecting each time you tried to call
And started stepping back into a world that spins without you
Bonus poems
Garden
My garden grows with water and sunshine and breath
With curves that brush blue and pure
Cucumber fresh
My garden drips across the green
Smooth and soothing
In rustling grass I hear Him pass
Until the thorns start spreading
My garden’s curves turn into spikes
That sit low until they strike
The petals once so soft and plush
Now the hurting, haunting type
This garden, so dearly tended
Pretended to be pretty with compassion
Crayolas crusting into ashen abstractions
That garden knew me
Saw through me
And wooed me
Every afternoon
Slowly excused me
Until I was a refugee
Begging for a place in my own hands
Gardens
Harden