Prose Poetry

The Places In-Between

Scrittura prompt: in-between places

Somewhere between the silence and the thunder there is a whisper, a single light in darkness, a wick before the flame.

We once kissed under double-jointed stars and the platinum moondust — or maybe somewhere in between — two thousand miles away. Running out of Red Bull. Running out of space.

Parked the umbrella in New York City — got lost along the way — swam to Memphis in between dinner and being late for spin class, head still spinning, burning rubber anchored to the heart, empty pockets full of dreams for all the in-betweens, rock stars and beauty queens — motion sickness dramamine — music bursting from the seams. Hashtag postcards from the edge.

Hitched a ride to New Orleans, well, time’s a thief — that walks quietly in its sleep, making restitution with tattooed memories nothing’s ever as it seems — laminated life is gold, scribbling words that unfold between the margins — between the toes — moments lost like tossed umbrellas, life happens in between the raindrops that pound and slice the pavement of cracked concrete.

Fading summer becomes September, singing songs of wanderlust, I remember we kissed once under double-jointed stars and platinum moondust — and so many unforgotten places in between.

Thank you to Paroma Sen for this inspiration from Scrittura publication 4th Friday Prompt, in-between places — places in-between.

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