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CLAIRE HELLAR

WHITEWATER

 

can you buy me an ocean to ease

all the mountains you tore from the base of my heart

 

a gossamer scarf floating in the sky

lighter than a child's kite

 

a silver matchbox to hold the weight of my sorrow -

and when you strike it it rings

 

summer from a roadside stall in taiwan,

wound around with yellow ribbon

 

or a vintage map that will lead me out of aching

to where full of sunbeams I wind up happy.

 

 

 

helium balloons that spin me until I fall dizzy, aching,

skin only for you: a gold-spun compass in paris

(you will be there for one night)

 

carnations and roses named for me that brush

wildly, angrily against each other -

 

anything

exotictender to bear me up out of bayou river rapids

the whitewater hurricane you left me in without waking.

 

 

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Circle Poetry Journal///Ministry of Obscure Knowledge  ©  2015