The earth underneath us curved into the shape of God’s contact lens,
But not even he could see us.
As bees buzzed above us,
And gnats made a layer over where we laid,
We lazed on, laughed and looked at airplanes tearing through the clouds
And escaped unscathed.
Then you lettered something in the dirt I’ll never forget
I can’t think of anything good enough.
Brian Thomas is currently an undergraduate student at Ursinus College in Pennsylvania. He is the 2014 recipient of the Iris N. Spencer Poetry Award from the West Chester University Poetry Conference. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Lantern, The Blue Route, Eunoia Review and others. He is a co-founder and editor of the magazine Aux./Vox.