Time has slowed down today.

I have left my body,

I float like sea foam,

while my skin and bones

operate as they believe they should.

I’ve offered up my services

to gods and to loved ones

because every bone in my body

is selfish.

Each one wants to feel joy;

to catch endorphins

in a headlock embrace.


I’m still floating

and badly parking

and running away

the moment I meet someone new.

All in slow motion.

Like the three witches

brewing and stirring a potion;

reeling off each ingredient

– incantation –

each piece of me

they need to keep the sky overcast

and grey to pepper their heath

with dappled slate.


Hail Myself

and my tragic flaws.

The ones on vinyl,

the ones they play in coffee shops,

the ones they sing around campfires,

the ones they burn in the fire.

The ones I cry about

because tears are like my keys;

I lose them and find them,

carry them and throw them

into a dish to sit

with all of the other keys,

the hardly used ones.


Today, my ceiling feels closer

– exists at a touchable distance –

but when I turn around

and look down,

all I see, are clouds.

© Kristiana Reed 2018

2 thoughts on “Clouds

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