Gyroscope Review 15-1 - Page 25

Ferris Wheel by Sarah Marchant I grip my skinny hands searching for a ring that hasn't surfaced in months A fish hook pulling me into the tar-streaked sky by the tendons Bend and straighten bit by tension-taut bit Tonight the moon is gold glinting to unearth my bones unbury my clean conscience I close my eyes and it's still you moving on me in the dark suspended, smooth and unblinking in a thicket of disarray Gyroscope Review 24 !