
Far
She loves me most when I’m
Not too close.
How bizarre
How I was once innermost
Far,
Below
Her navel- a scar,
not too close,
once ajared
showing- about 3 inches deep (or)
far
only
An infant Breiona Harge.
Not too close,
If we restarted that moment
far
long ago
it’d be hard to be
Oh-so close
Yet not called
Deemed or diagnosed a ghost, so
far
And further I go.
Star
Ships and rockets I’ve boarded to show
She’ll love me harder, better, even most when I’m
This poem is about:
My family
Guide that inspired this poem: