by Paula Martin
Meet me after midnight
at the place all lovers go
at the edge of names and words
and of everything we know
out beyond the reach of others
above the cover of the clouds
where the earth smells technicolor
and the air tastes like a sound
we’ll step off the edge together
your hand warm and strong in mine
and in the beauty of surrender
our wings will open up in flight
and we’ll lose the world outside us
except each other and the wind—
forgetting all that we remember
as we find our selves again.
Paula Martin is a writer living in Little Rock, Arkansas.