
Author Archives: Lisa Rosier
Unpause
What if my blink lasts an extra beat more
Unintended, I cannot explain
What if while this, my inhale I implore
Is reality seeking to feign?
Gravity, come, take your match by the hand
Ether has waited for this
Fluttering eyes, staccato breath
So much words culminate in a kiss
Sleep Demons
It’s not our fault, the night
Racing in to become the pace car to our heart rate
That it might conquer
Why weave these words, darkness, ’round our ankles?
Utterances we used to need to hear, that would have us walking tall?
I can’t say your name, but your number, I know
‘Til my last breath, I call you the liar you be
Your wishing to blackmail
Your attempt to bruise
Reality we now enjoy
Ask us to wrestle, and wrestle we will
For you have lost us
To flowers and fauna
Forever to smiles from friends
Again
And over again
Aching Sunday
Tremendous love, resides inside
As an aria
Weightless and burdensome
How is it that such fullness
This nothing less than aching
Arrives and leaves me
Walking
Feeling
As a ghost on Sunday
An otherwise fine, fine day
And there are no ears to touch?
Free Diver: A Haiku
She comes deeper down
They, in the rush to love her
Neglected respect
Ranking
Space, the enemy
Distance, a demon
Molecules collect between us, acting as some referee to our match
Banished to our corners before the fight begins
If these lacerations and these mangled bones, inflamed, remain this slow to heal
If Winter wishes to outrank
Then we want our angels
Safe. Us, together.