Fantasists

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we became those people overnight,

fantasists who daydream holding

hands and speak in whispers of ‘true love’

like nothing came before a kiss across

the console of a Chevy Cruz or

will exist without space curvature

across the low points of

our spines…

~

i’ve fanned the flames

and lost myself in

your geometry.

____

© Ben Ditmars 2017

Doubt the Stars

doubt the stars but not their light:
her breath replaces oxygen in fire
and I am haunted every day by solar
whispers in the wind; a voice has
fractured time; the earth has fell
away and milkweed brings the
butterflies to life.

© Ben Ditmars 2015

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