Page 46 - Litterateur March 2021

Looking Glass

After the rain, I should climb into, but I can

I hear the earth quake smell the sky; it is the same

in my heart, look outside gray, and the taste of

the window from a breakfast sadness

café and see a rift in the skin lingers in the watery air.

of concrete, an opening I shake

to another world my head, hear the rattle

in another of music color uncertainty,

universe but the clef, hard as iron,

reflecting into mine. I feel shimmers through the noise

the words leak through in my chest. And I wonder

touching my face. The if Alice ever found what she

scaffold was looking for. I simply

in the mirror of that world take another

translates itself into a smile sip of coffee.