By Amy Simone Piller
Clear spaces and blue skiesain’t no place for a city girl’s mindso tonight I’m just a dot on the skylineflying back to where we might lieand feel closely less alone again.
There’s little to trust in going slowI need reminders—go, go, gododge this, fix that, me first, you lastunanswered open ended questions too vastwithout alleys and [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
I wish you werepartly inside meseeing how everything shakesand little is stablebut love that takes overlike flowers on a dining room table
and threatenslike next week.
By Amy Simone Piller
I’ve called to tell you one thing,but can’t and say another,hoping you will make the invisiblejump to conclusionsI need, I know this doesn’t help.
There’s also nothing you can sayexcept everythingI can’t hear.
By Amy Simone Piller
I bought you a bookto keep postcards from me,a cheap trick to keep youcataloguing our continuance,but the chickens have come home,and my writing ungluedby unused postage(a penny jar unemptiedweighing down pursed lips).
You write,“Whenever I come hereI long for you.Somehow the brick buildingsyour hair,the white window framesthe contours of your faceand that seeping glare,sunlight through [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
The plane prepares to take off(but this is irrelevant).There is the space betweenplatform and plane,steps necessary,to make mechanics not mundane.
We have discovered little morethan the backstage handsdisguised and disguisingwhat we try not to seethe things that make strings singenjoying the undulations,coherence unpinned.
But here comes the flaw:the careful mechanicsof panic beforeis what make moments worth [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
Your mother drops youon 11th and 1st to meet me(as if I can help).
The backseat bounces with bare potentialyour brothers: two and four, carseated and unsurewhat more days of limited waysmight mean.
Later, walking you home,you say you will go ahead alone(some quietness about making your waythrough the maze)and I am left to turnon wearing heels [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
I believe in old ladiesI believe in church hats,I believe in young peoplefalling in love,and in embarrassment.
I believe in front steps,in morning, rereadingand in repeating.I believe in missing,I believe in being confusedI believe in the smile afterthe subway takes you.
I believe in the skyline,in trees, hard days, slow ways,and in being soothed.
I believe in love [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
Does it mean not noticing the sounds outsideof upcoming spring, shrieks of laughterwhen there are so many things to do?
Does it mean hearing the murmurs unmentionedthe sounds in a vacuum near unknownand noticing what might otherwise hangin the air and never touch your tiny ears?
Does it mean imagining what might sound niceinspire you to know [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
I am sitting in your loft bedwhen I hear you say,“Let me give you,all you desire.â€
I sit on the verge of nervous laughter dizzy with unknowing what to say to every fantasy granted, and then I realize,you are talking to the cat.
Without a doubtthis much you can do,and I am harder, it is true.
Outside a [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
This is itonce we maywatch what focuses usgo away, no longer that which makes obscurewhat it is we think we seejust a line: moon, sun and me.
It will be unlike this tomorrow toowhen the world becomes again anew.But I would like to waltz with you,anyway.
Before the morning breaks,let me show you every fantasyI have [...]