Emily Patterson

LINES BEGINNING AND ENDING WITH CYCLIC PAIN

white petals on the black road
the sky went lemon
and
                                                I meant to
tell you about
                        the fog
{clouds a citrus bowl}
                                    and      they called
for storms
that never did
                                    {swirls of green}
when
the pain unfurls—
                                    the sun, acidic
in
            my
                        jaw
where
the weight of a blueberry
                                                could leave
bruises
            on the sidewalk           where puddles
once were
                        once
                                    this ends
I’ll be in touch
                        {touched, again}
                                                tangerine
light on my face                      again
who knew
                        so much bounty
grew here
                                                all along

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