Two Poems by Savannah Louise

I am crossing my legs so that they are a triangle, not a pretzel

I am sitting on your floor
You are on your computer
You are typing a message to a girl
You spell everything quick
You don't care about vowels
You are a silent masterpiece.

I am pressing my fingers
Into the carpet I am pretending the carpet
Is a shallow ocean because I am a giant
And when I move around I create invisible tsunamis
That could make very small things die.

An instance in which I get mine

When you are sleeping I will
Put Velcro down your back
And behind your knees
I will also put Velcro on the front of me
I will creep behind you
And I will spoon you very hard.
And when you sit up in the morning
I will be stuck to you
You will be terrified
But you will never find out
Who it is

About the author:
Savannah Louise lives in Minneapolis. She has work at Titular Journal, Theives Jargon, and Dogzplot. She blogs at www.savannahsulks.blogspot.com.