such ridiculous tools. as if words could fix a bleeding brain. preordained fabric dividers meant to separate us if you die. divert eyes staring at the clock. remember I’d told you the stories. oversized book. water-washed illustrations. pegasus, my benevolent savior. the man in golden sandals flies me away. clouds disconnect from bleached cotton and plastic pillows sweating the sick. sister mary sometimes foiled my library day with the winged horse. give someone else a turn annmarie. you can’t take the book every thursday. blinded by Christian light she couldn’t comprehend pegasus and me needling defeat between fetlock and toe. so much tubing here. how many times might it circle the world. fall risk wrapped around your wrist. i remember periwinkle choir robes. living angel singing out with bright lips. mom, please wake up. Use your words. Use your voice. the pegasus clock in ICU15 stammers. his magnificent white wings unfold. broad feathers brush away the hideous blinking lights and institutional grey floors. fly it all away.

AM Roselli is a writer and artist living in Hudson Valley, New York. Her collection of illustrated poetry, Love of the Monster, was published in 2016. Her writing has appeared in Red Fez, Panoplyzine, The Paragon Journal, Firefly, Free Lit, The Avocet, Miracles Magazine, Chicago Literati, The Absurdist, Front Porch Journal, and Into the Void Magazine. Her art was featured in the A3 Review and Emerge Gallery, Saugerties, NY, Red Exhibit and their Art & Words Exhibit