“A Funnel for Chaos” by A.J. Huffman


It's strange, she thinks,
this need
to stand on her toes
in order to see.
Anything.
Away from the gray
wall
that holds the hem
of her skin.
At bay.
Against the moon
still running
over the ridges
of her body.
Formulating.
A pattern
so perfectly preserved
her eyes agree
to its tone.
As quickly
as her thoughts agree
to jump ship.
For the arms
of a mindless wind.