by Joseph Farley
Flying through the air I think of your black hair,
your full lips and the curve of your breast,
Then I hit the ground hard and must break fall
so bones are merely bruised and not broken.
The brain bounces around in its skull box
and creates a deficit of neurons,
but such damage could be a good thing
as the best memories were up there in the air,
What happened before and after
I am only too eager to forget.