Danielle Ferrara


saws underneath gravity
what everyone has
something we can never be

pointing to an asymptote
waking up too many symbols
waking up to too many symbols

changes of color
in the sky

leaking of color
from the square of what i see

don’t expect,
there is no miracle.

went to a shop
and purchased a fan.

were you sad today?
i saw you singing from an open-roofed honda,
and it made me cry.

you are my friend.

the rush, the smells of trash,
the sugary-sweet air in the mountains

i ask only for a good memory

i behave with slow movements
and i am comforted
by the smirks of others
at others
as parasites

i am smiling.