New Custom Poem for Jill M
Sound: ice cubes in a glass
Color: deepest purple
Smell: ocean
Sensation: being watched
Place: tree house
The sun by the ocean, set.
from their lofty treehouse
where as children they were married
and where as children they nursed
false wounds bandaged with
newspaper and crepe
and drank sidecar’s from invisible
cups with ice cubes clinking–
in this treehouse they
sat, the deepest purple
seeping through the cracks
in the boards [...]