I can’t remember how I kept upright.
A beer there, a push here, and it stayed the same.
All around the sky was in the trees,
people in their shoes,
colors on the things.
As if they covered everything,
like they do.
I laid in a curve.
A bend of spinal cord
leading every movement.
Today the turning of the world existed
instead of being something we just know,
every breath of orbit piercing pores of arms,
a person terrified, terrified.
The walls could not just close in,
they grew. Until the horizon would not hold them.
I’m curious where the door is.
Shattered, open, reckless and beautiful. If that is what we’re aiming for.
A closed room will do for now and knowing the negative image would be devastating.
An inverse leads back before memories became collage on wall,
memento for their loyalty.
Jacqueline Dufresne is a third year creative writing undergraduate at UC Davis. She like cats and coffee and books and people (in general). "I want people to read my poetry because I like to share. I think poetry will bring about a revolution. "
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