A Literary Magazine in Support of the Jewish Community
Near Miss
We swallow what we won’t say…
—Ada Limon
though I've read long verses projected
through the tunnels of your iris: speckled
robin egg hue reflected off your puff
sleeve peplum protection, soaking
me in coast-crashing depth—like any other
cliché for passion would include,
day after day we snowball more near-missed
brushes after agile exchanges, then recede
to our distinctive status quo; comfort-zoned behind
our respective societal shoulds and obligations, tucking
inside hushed words restrained from view, brimming
over on occasion like collected
slow dripping turquoise morning dew.
Valerie Frost
Valerie Frost is a Garden State native. She lives in Central Kentucky with her three lively kiddos. Her poems have appeared in Eastern Iowa Review, ONE ART, Eunoia Review, and elsewhere.
