Nicole Johnson

I’ve been reminiscing on the wind

About gliding through the luster of my hair.

I am transfixed—

by the asylum found in there.

My escape from my own pretenses.

I walked through the meadow floor

Stumbling upon the lives

that appeared before me.

An existence of utter tranquility

That momentary silence heeded

Engulfed by the need

to stop the clutter of voices.

Let the ink touch the paper.

Let them feed

upon my own insanity.

They told me not to hide.

The sun bore through the trees

My skin displayed the absence of light—

Forming this connection.

I knew we would thrive tonight

Inside the globe

of our ancestors.