Nicole Tallman

White Light

Who decides what’s wrong and what’s right?
So many people suffered to perfect this drug.
Before the irises bloomed,
there were lilies. A warm frost covers
everything snug. Moss and stones—all
their insides grown green. I watch a nurse
refill her gaping white jug. There’s a field of snow
and a field of sun. Do you want the frost
or the hug? Take the white light in,
and you can let everything go.

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