woman! I shout-sing as I marvel at your new-found confidences; you have always been alone. but now your soft-shoed dancing knows the way it goes.

last night the clock struck three, a lonely bird chirped, and I walked into the kitchen on padded feet. slid onto the floor with the

(for Raustin, and Spectacle Pond) on that night of stars, of sweetly sanguine air: you were slicing fruit when the cold snapped its fingers and bid

all at once I hide myself, with found cravings in a coat pocket hidden in autumn’s closet. a yellow leaf touched my face and I

morning has a wooden mission: of a flat table dressed with a checkered cloth, pulling at its edges – I pull myself downstairs like honey

you played that solitaire of saving with me saying “i will remember now forever” and tomorrow morning it’s gone like your fingertips never made me