Quinn McCart
Contributor
I had it in my grasp before she flew across the table,
Franka’s face aghast,
Yet my hand felt so stable.
I fall to my knees, begging for forgiveness.
Jyoti stares right through me;
My presence here, now meaningless.
Super juice all around me
sends me back to those lonesome nights at sea.
Was it then that I was supposedly free?
Orange, ginger, and turmeric.
That was to strengthen me,
the sick.
Now I find myself lying in the super juice,
face down,
offering nothing but a frown.
The dark hours ensue.
My head rests here until dawn.
Joni Mitchel once said “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.”
