by Sarah Varnam

Sometimes at night
the minutes open,

bloom like dark flowers,
fill the room.

They open up
to the in-between,

water on sleep-ready limbs
shushing anxious thoughts,

slowing their pace
to match the breaths

that ease in and out
before slumber,

a temporary suspension
of the distance between us and the stars.

— from Juniper Volume 2, Issue 1