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