No need for air, for light,

just tilt your head backwards

and allow the past

to roll down your face.

Hold on to that.

Persephone shifted her weight

in time to the point

she was making.

She never stood erect-

she was always making a point.

Even with a potato peeler

there was an air

of menace-

she would mix it 

in with the mash.

Then backwards glancing

her laugh would fill 

this empty space

and with her meeting

eyes adore my approach.