by Betsy Johnson-Miller

blue


 

we spend an hour
in a field

a godhouse
we’ve never seen before

even though you
don’t believe

in godhouses anymore.

when you kiss me
you open at least
four gates

I say yes

I say love I am a bowl
a big

breakable bowl

and bright blue

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Betsy Johnson-Miller’s work has appeared or is forthcoming in Boulevard, Prairie Schooner, Columbia Poetry Review, and Alaska Quarterly Review.