Legacy

 

i click my wrist bones
together
like two strangers
kept captive
i nosedive in friction
and curve with the depths
trapped in gaps
where i just
                         can’t
                                     find
my voice
yet, there—
lain beneath quickened feet:
poetry in shapes
i swear i hear you there
i wear you
in my
hair
like smoke dispersed
in three thin lines
my geometric
                         heaven
the words we spoke
in lost half rhymes
so softly
omnipresent
your angles
                         rest
                         precise
my voice
still
and always
                         rising
Lydia Falls is a writer and teacher who currently resides in Pound Ridge, NY. She lived abroad in South Korea and Taiwan for four years. Her poetry is rooted in reflection and self-discovery, an ongoing process shaped by travel, nostalgia, and fractured memories.

Image by Lydia Falls

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