9 poems dugger - Trish Dugger

Over the Edge
How easily we lose parts
of ourselves.
My youth slipped over
the edge of a sharp pain.
We move in and out of
each other like
shadows through statues,
leaving traces and
grabbing what we can
on this invisible odyssey.
While sliding through your
spine, I placed an ache
in your lower back
You took my sense of
balance when you
roamed inside my brain.
My heart gallops
across the moonscape
on your nightmare.
My mother, slightly tipsy,
walks inside me. I can’t
find my mind anywhere.
An English woman
woke up one morning
with a French accent.
I speak in tongues.