The oxygen place

By -
You pull me back down
when I chase after stars:  
moon tiaras, 
then struggle to breathe -
the oxygen place.

Sometimes my brain blurs
ghosts and phantoms on the road -
I'm afraid to walk
until you trace each tall, grey
lamppost.

I tangle myself into talented nightmares
a lot, sparkling knots.
you speak like a comb -
I collect the glitter. 


LJ Ireton 2024

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