There was a flutter in her chest each time

she looked up at the sky

to clouds made of wispy cotton candy.

The vision delectable and

ready to melt on her tongue,

to blend with the saliva in her mouth and

trickle down her throat.

Body humming, eager for those

airy, sweet clouds to

enter her veins and dilate her eyes,

that surge of excitement,

a taste of bird’s flight, opened wings.

And despite her frenzied state,

she pinpointed the flutter and

dug her fingers in,

between the slender bones,

which cracked and fractured as

she pulled out the problem.

Her heart pulsed in her dripping red palms and

she whispered to the dreaming organ to

stop planting fantasies in her mind

or she’d toss the dreadful thing into the sea.

-------------------------------------

Tinamarie Cox lives in Northern Arizona (USA) and has an existential crisis daily. She writes to escape her mind and explore the universe. You can read more of her work at tinamariethinkstoomuch.weebly.com and follow her on Instagram @tinamariethinkstoomuch.