by Lannie Stabile
When I cross a cemetery, I
grip my breath like a rosary. I
watch the tombstones blur,
the iron fence galloping along. I
finger the beads of my lungs
until my chest pops. I
try desperately to exorcise
you.
But the heart is weak and wispy. I
release the imprisoned mist
and breathe your ghost in again, as I
have all these years.
Lannie Stabile spends a lot of time thinking, a lot of time writing, a lot of time thinking about writing, and a ridiculous amount of time shattering inwardly because she’ll never have enough time to do all the things she truly wants to do. Like think, write, and think about writing. She serves as Managing Editor for Barren Magazine and is a Co-founding Member of MMPR Collective. Follow her online at lanniepenland.weebly.com and @LanniePenland.
(Wander over to read Lannie’s poem Bindle, as well! – Elephants Never)