Erin Ober’s “where”

where your heart melted into flagstone, the smell of your hands after playing on the
playground, the sound of your dilated heart in the trembling grass
where safe puts your hands behind your back and tickles your finger tips —
you thump to the ground and have the best sleep of your life
where you can move toward this place while moving away
Where invented the only way to be alone
where a dog barks at a blue comet: but what’s the matter?
where you sit in the deep south packing your silverware for a reason that devours you
where the inability to speak, to say, to spit,
yes this is where
where will no longer devour you
where we rustle quiet as wet paper, we fold against each other, soon above us the air
hums with the flood
where grew heavy and fell asleep
where we called the homeless home
and finally the geography of where turned into the geography of you
where I found the where in me.

Erin Ober’s “where”