|
tender_square
|
she noticed her husband looking low.
he leaned against the countertop and stared.
“i’m the guy who let me down, as you know.”
he’d been critical of her spiritual practices:
“put a stick up your ass and rise above.”
red-shirted and smile-shined. angelic.
the nest appeared one summer, a tumor.
she dreamt they used aluminum metal,
paper-thin; the tail was so long and bright she
mistook it for a sun slinking low
over her left shoulder. she prepared her salad;
she begin at the bottom and sawed.
it’s not that she trimmed her middle-finger—
“i mean, if i don’t understand you, and i’m—”
[quadrilateral frame, mullions splitting].
an old couple waddled quickly in front
of a thousand elephants. she had imagined
them, the swirl of their shed hair, willingly.
|
220402
|
