How Can I Get to Where You Are?

It was late.
 It was night.
I glided on a car made of skateboard wheels and twine.
 Street lights twinkle like faraway stars,
But the road below me shone black as an underground pool.
Passing lights overwhelmed my sight
and the black of the road left me blind.
 I reached out for the painted lines that curved and swayed the road.
I could only trust my fingertips to steady me on this sooty path.
Gravity pulled me toward my destination.

Home.

Home.

My descent grew steeper.
I called for you, fear pitching my voice higher.

Hear me.
Help me.
Stop me.

My eyes are plucked out.
The surface is too slick.
Night's maw is open.
I fall and she smacks her lips.

She Shall Outdistance Calamity Anywhere She Goes

When she comes back--
    into the world, red and slick, re-
    incarnated she will not wait--

She will squall without the spank--
    Warrior cry,  Pen poised--
     to mar the blank slate--

New life, new woman--
    New dress? Perhaps--
    Yes, to be sure.

Trouble will come to call.
     She will have her track shoes on
     before the knocker can sound.

Bus, train, car or fleetest foot--
    Speed boat,  aero plane--
   Leaving Trouble in the dust.
----
I chose the third choice, Kenia's Wednesday challenge, for my inspiration.
I had written off Marianne Moore a long time ago (the HYPHENS!!!) and it was nice to revisit her work. She was a lot better the second time around. I could even see a similarity of style between us.

I took my title from her poem "Diligence Is to Magic as Progress Is to Flight."
I also chose to follow her style and see if I could make those confusticated hyphens work for me.
Her original poem : here

The Head is a Pitcher, The Nose Its Spout

 I was weeping in my closet.
(Do you weep inside yours?)
I cracked the spine and wrote
(It was a dark and stormy face)
A list of the things I knew for certain
(choosing buoyancy over drowning)
 Skills were noted, faiths testified
(And I wrote I look good in black)
I closed the book with determined snap
(then I put away pairs of shoes)
 I filled three pages with things I knew
(I could've eaten my feelings instead)
 Emptied my heart, cleared my head
(cramped hand and a pain in the neck).

Kristine

Her curls blend with the swirls of the sea
Eddies swish 'round the pedestal
The tides call her home
But down flutters o'er her heart
As her fingers stretch to feel
The tickling of the breeze
Feathers sprout, wings unfurl, she rises
She rises with a cry, bright thing.
A sail from a distant vessel waves her farewell.