Poetry

Symbiotic Summersaults

Emma Goodstein, null, null
First published October 1, 2005

Sometimes

when the planet does

summersaults

and your words slash my

thoughts

in

half,

 

I, in the fetal position,

feel the blood beat

in the skin beneath my ears.

 

A hand touches my back and,

like IV leeches,

we remain

symbiotic.