Daily 5-7-5

Tom Rigg

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She bought me congee

For a fever, her first time

Caring quite that much. 

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Ash singed steps mark the

Territory of blissful

Solitude: smoke break.

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Sharing cigarettes

In the rain, forgetting the

World with each slow drag.

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A poppy gently

Swaying in a scene that hooks

Me like opium.

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twenty eight: I was

unstoppable, finding peace

in city chaos.

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I smelled you again

a memory drifting down

a busy sidewalk.

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It’s been a tough few

Decades for all of the

Optimists out there.

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America’s greatest

Assumption is the “we”

On every website.

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Real consequence

Pulls back the curtain on our

Inequality.

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She makes me question

The systems I hadn’t yet

Recognized as such.

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These weekend highs make

Cruising altitude feel like

A sea level trip.

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I’m learning what it

Means to be more comfortable

With you than alone.

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We squeezed nights short to

Make room for longer days; brief

Flashes of comfort.

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Happy tears brim as

A sweet weekend’s fleeting warmth

Fades to memory.

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Crossed knuckles swing by

Palm trees, carelessly strolling

Through golden hour.

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Out alone at night

Privilege born out of a

History of pain.

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Sprouting through concrete

Cracks, we bloomed in the dead of

A Midwest winter.