Screech

kiss the baby over and over, smells like fresh baked bread

Trying to write a single sentence

A letter, a sound like a dong from a large metal instrument

Or a screech from a screaming guitar

No sad guitar, no mad guitar

Just crying, leaking tears like the Indian girl who died from her broken heart

Kiss the baby, like fresh baked bread

So airy and soft and new and perfect

Screech goes the sun in the new day

I’m in love with the interruption