Isabel Rhoten

Doorway eyes. A bell tower. Red green fusion. From twigs to trees. Regard a gaggle of children one table over. Bottle cap off. Bones discarded. Under a ceiling fan buzzing. A bond. A build up. That same trash can. Height unlocking. Heat flirting with ice. All the different angels of a face. A moth. Purchase of a flower. A portrait of trees listening. Preface what words cannot say. Strangers speak it more clearly. Insoluble eyes. Question marking common phrases. Some joint. Blue ribbon in the shower. Or a ball in the bath. A puntable size. No motion too slow. Now where did the month go? The mail arrives when I need it. The door is open but the house is not welcoming. Dig up the time capsule. Big sky swallowing cough syrup. She sleeps and sends rain. That morning crust in her eye. Remove it gently.