"Sewing" - 1/23/2018

"Sewing"

I'm on cloud eight. Maybe seven?
Definitely not nine - cloud nine is as far
away as my mother when she's drinking,
on nights when I tiptoe down the hall
to hear her slurry slushy voice tripping
over itself like she's threading a needle
with her drunken tongue. Cloud eight, however,
is here. I stand on the edge of the white,
a cliff of air behind me, my eyes
searching the sky for the final leap to take.