Chills

Photo by Tanner Layton

The extra-terrestrial spotlight
glazes the treated, weathered wood.
As donuts dance beneath
an all-too-bright reflection.
Constructed in such a way
that my lower body obeys.
A polyester blend contains
all-too-white, hair-covered skin.
The spectacular,
deep, navy space
invades my space.
Needles prick
my fingernails:
the fall chill
sits me down in the spotlight.
Soon-to-be-donated fabric
allows a welcomed penetration.
Orange glow enlightens the wood
while piano keys play
the…

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