Poems by Evangeline Joy

This space,

between sheets

skin on skin

     scent of sleep

just heartbeat

    and life being.

It's a universe

     (ours)

enough

     (we are

                enough) 

Perhaps we can't  

We can't Have anything

Anything at all

When what is wanted

Becomes undesired

At the point of attainment

I reached for it:

Flower growing in

hidden space,

Petals of flame

Shining amber-scarlet

Everything lovely,

Aroma of need-

satisfaction

But, with single grasp,

Crumbling to ash

At scorched fingertips

Now, with tender hands

Pressed to salt-stung lips

I turn away

A final

Glance, backward

At charred seed left behind

In shadow crevices

Illusion's offspring:

Unviable.