Split by Rachel Nix
I draw fault lines in your quake, shaking
at the symmetry in which we are divided;
you are not the world I once woke to,
and I am no more the earth
you dug into with callused hands
that craved our growth.
There is only air between us, dense
as it is, obscuring our views, waiting for
onlookers to see the mess we've made.
____________________________
Rachel Nix is from Northwest Alabama. Despite an irrational fear of frogs, she’s declared herself pretty content with living in the boonies. Her most recently published/forthcoming work can be found at The Metric, Spillway, and The Summerset Review.
I draw fault lines in your quake, shaking
at the symmetry in which we are divided;
you are not the world I once woke to,
and I am no more the earth
you dug into with callused hands
that craved our growth.
There is only air between us, dense
as it is, obscuring our views, waiting for
onlookers to see the mess we've made.
____________________________
Rachel Nix is from Northwest Alabama. Despite an irrational fear of frogs, she’s declared herself pretty content with living in the boonies. Her most recently published/forthcoming work can be found at The Metric, Spillway, and The Summerset Review.
