Jozsef Rippl-Ronai, “Dusk Landscape,” via Wikimedia Commons
Out of reach by Britt DiGiacomo
You say it’s dangerous you say it’s too risky to be alone it is spring I lay in a field in the grass the bridge across from me my hand on my chest my skin is hot (like desert sand) I am not sick I close my eyes and can hear a lady, whistling on the park bench, smell the leaves, picture the crack in your ceiling electric-blue light on your desk I place a hand in my pocket grab a loose thread twist it between my fingers (until it burns like the tip of a recently extinguished match) I unravel silent as stone
eyes open
beneath the crest – ink-faded red dusk I listen
Britt DiGiacomo is a New York-based writer who earned her MFA from Manhattanville College, where she served as production editor at The Manhattanville Review. Britt likes to travel, ride her bike along the water’s edge and loves a good book with a wild adventure. She is currently developing a coming of age novel, charting the life of Lilly Difeo, a mixed-up girl who is trying to redefine herself in a world that seems hell-bent on stifling any chance for self-realization. 40 October 4, 2018
Boulder Weekly