Volume 18 – E Sandra DiPasqua

Untitled #40

~ Sanda DiPasqua

my fear is like the drip of a runny egg
my fear can be found in a tightly sealed box or a loose-fitted bra
my fear has been placed in my pocket, beside my bed, in a brown paper bag i walk with it, sleep with it, make time for it
i see it marked on my calendar, i see it written in a book, i watch it while i’m sleepwalking it’s in the games i play, i bring it with me
it can get lost in my thoughts
it has no independence and is as light as the weight of a soul it has many false names

my fear can be lost or found, it’s hopeless and hopeful, it’s kind and mean my fear exist within a block of ice, a dripping faucet, the length of your stay
my fear is as long as a winding road, a shooting star, the space between my teeth i long for it, pass it around, lose it in my dreams
i see it, it is the color of the milky way
it’s in the gait of my walk, held in my hands, my toes painted red it can be a constant companion and whispered like a prayer
it has no reason, it has no sound, it has no smell it has me/you