Poetry Blog by Connor Lannes (Relationships)

It's a concentration of atoms, that in the air converse with one another.

And then those bits become molecules. 
They create my table.
My computer.
And in some ways, my ability to type and write and eat ramen at the last hour of the night.

And they make

That smokey woody herbal floating aroma that reminds me of the witchcraft shop down the street of where we used to live.

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The feeling of

having just finished

a threeway

is

non-mapped islands

You are now in a bed

with two naked

bodies

that don't immediately fade 

And no one

explains the common courtesy

of getting some food

After performing what's known as an

Eiffel Tower.

We throw ourselves

out to sea

With minimal knowledge

of the breeding grounds of tropical fish

...

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