By K Weber
Copyright ©2024
this pressure feels purplish
and all i did was stand
from sitting after sleeping
like a bag of sand
on your nubby couch. i spy
swimmers from your bay
window. across busy
lanes of traffic i make
eye contact with life-
guards as you breathe
into my body, save
me from behind. we could
take this outside and i’d grab
handfuls of leaves and needles
from those thick, private
bushes. only rabbits
and squirrels hear us
in effortless euphoria: the hum
and hump fast or soft
as cottontail. even the neighbors
in swimsuit, trunk, and towel
are unaware of our sounds
as automobiles pant so fast
with quickening pulse
down your frantic road.
About K Weber:
K Weber is an Ohio writer with 10 online books of poetry. She obtained her Creative Writing BA in 1999 from Miami University. K writes independently and collaboratively, having created poems from words donated by more than 300 people since 2018. K has poems featured in publications such as The Hooghly Review, Writer’s Digest, Fevers of the Mind & her photography/digital collages appear in literary journals including Barren Magazine and Nightingale & Sparrow. Much of K's work (free in PDF and some in audiobook format) and her publishing credits are on her website: kweberandherwords.com
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