I started seeing, Faces on the walls of brightly Lit bakeries serving golden pies Hair entangled in the clouds Like blue intestines digesting The truth I could not process. Then I started seeing, The sun beneath her ribs And entire cities in her breath And the stars in her eyes As if I had telescope eyes What I found scared me Now I only see what’s in front of me I’m still adjusting To knowing nothing.
Sam Wise is a writer, saxophonist, and philosophy student living and writing in Montreal, Quebec. His poetry is raw and unrestrained. It concerns love, death, and the pursuit of spirituality and harmony. You can find his latest work in New note mag, VEG mag out of Mcgill University, and Quibble literary magazine.