Betsy Soukup
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Exquisite maybes.

1/17/2016

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A path, yet to be engulfed in flames
Cries out to me in distant screams
And muffled sobs (echoed, unseen)

My heart; fully hearing, fully seeing
the exquisite maybes (and vulgar what ifs)
While my mind strikes a match,
threatens to hold us both
to the fire, unforgiving,
without apology

If I say it's all a dream
I know you'll utter, gently beg,
"and so is this?"
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