Quakes

by Christina Issa

Slight nudges are like modest quakes

Empty cavities reveal the stretch of

A porous and lighter existence

Joni on her side but still

She feels adrift

Light nips at her fingertips and

Daylight shakes off her moody weight

Withered tomorrows signal for

The night to drench her

Only momentarily

She hasn't seen a thing yet but

Roads have not been so friendly

Passer-by's and their evil eyes

Pierce a thin veil and cull

Her overgrown weeds

Clouded by fantasy

She is

Sleeping wide awake

Only woken up by the

Most modest quakes