Butterscotch by Amy Laessle-Morgan | One Poem Only
A daily reading from One Poem Only—a quiet space for a single poem, read aloud.ButterscotchAmy Laessle-MorganSomewhere between the amberblush streetlight of Divisionand the butterscotch stain on the back of my throat,there was a glasslike momentnearbentbut not yet breaking.Half-formed, honeydrunk on the hourslipping past the soft machinery of becomingunbecomingrewindingrethreading.Warm, butterfat air washing in subtlebreathing through the cracked window taxicabteacuplight broken open on my cheekwhispering nothing is permanentexcept the way we almost changed.There was always something…
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