This envelope of skin
Contains the ocean’s whisper, the heaven’s bang.
In its wisdom or fate
The tides and winds scream
A Santa Ana winds-of-hell dance
Through the canyons of my tenuous cells.
The universe of my cortex plots
A palace of pleasure and pain.
I soar to such heights
Like Icarus in the sun
All within a lightning’s breath.
New psych meds.
Ms. Thompson spends much of her time napping, smelling the roses and perfecting her talent for procrastination.
Please find her poetry in several publications: Hedgerow, Cadence Collective, Red Light Lit, Silver Birch Press (Green, Silver and Summer Anthologies), Pearl, Cactifur, and upcoming in Mas Tequila Review and Lummox (#4).