On the Edge
Susan Shea
I haven’t told you:
I fade out, go
to my sand stone castle
spread out
on a rock-hard cliff
when I need to overlook
tasks and seas and crests
that repeat themselves
BLANK
I am hungry
for sudden synchronicities
to appear in wide sky view
BLANK
I am wordless
I must have room to
believe an angel can
meet me eye to eye
unknown to unknown
ready me to return unstuck
to the lipstick
in my vanity closet
BLANK
a rouge a route to bring me
back to a full color wheel