Kara Gru Poet Prose Poetry

Vending Machine

I'd have come to you
I found a flower on the road and gave petals to the strangers who raised a conversation in my knuckles
I'd have come to you
Tips were yellow, every roof was breaking down
I'd have come to you
But they grabbed my fingers and stood under each one. One noise then another.
I'd come to you
But I took two sticks and crawled under the grass
I'd put the entire weight of my body right next to you
But the deserts divided then multipled, running still.

I'll send you back to her, I'll send you backwards as she's undressing sunsets, standing in the ground, sucking air dry.

I loved you the way you love a tree, a bench or a stranger passing by.

There's a vending machine in the hallway where you can insert your coins, where you can give or take.

There's a vending machine in the hallway and there's water on the floor.

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