all the CD covers dancing
like a thousand little TV screens.
Your whispers a remote control
changing those flickering images.
When security asks us to leave,
you drive my car as I slump
against the window.
I close my eyes and transport us
Star Trek-style to the other side
of the city. Blink once and we’re
back in the mall parking lot.
These are the nights
you love me best.
We watch Jurassic Park
in wide-eyed terror, cower
on the front row, your nails
dig into my palm, hold on
for dear life, as if those giant
Tyrannosaurus jaws might
snatch us through the screen.
We’ve already broken
the rules of time and space.
Anything is possible.
This poem is the second of eight new works that will appear at Modern Confessional and across social media until the end of the year. To read the first poem, "The Masquerade," visit this link. Find out more about the New Poetry Project at this link. ©Collin Kelley, 2016