Monday Poetry Reading 2.24.25

space :: jessica johnson

I want space,

not to be filled,

but felt.

Smelled,

tasted on the fog

tinged sky.

I want trembling thighs,

yearning,

desire,

satiation followed by

silence.

I want the sound

of gravel under my feet,

to know the precise meter

of the hummingbird’s wing.

I want to know the price

of pausing to listen

as the birds wake,

or the day tucks in

to the cover of night

and be able to afford it.

I want gratitude for all I have

to hold me,

like my mother once did

when i was small,

and fell

skinning my knee.

I want to know

I have loved you all

well enough.