“Boundaries” © Tinamarie Cox

 

Portal Girl

Do you miss the girl that was made of open doors,
whose hours of sand poured from her portals
but never burned your feet?
Who let streams of your murky water slither in,
eroding as it winded through absent boundaries?

When she shut the doors with the click of locks,
only light leaked through the cracks in the frames.
Through a window, she watched you shy away
from the glint of gold she repaired the fractures with.
You scraped up the remaining grains around the doorstep
to never knock or visit again. 

 

Tinamarie Cox lives in an Arizona town with her family and rescue felines. Her written and visual work has appeared in a number of online and print publications, including past editions of Oddball Magazine. She has two poetry chapbooks with Bottlecap Press, Self-Destruction in Small Doses, and, A Collection of Morning Hours. Explore more of her work at tinamariethinkstoomuch.weebly.com.