in the midst of split
caffeine
tremors & vertigo
earth I
plopped
into sinkhole
a heap of turtle
shell floor tiles
you reached
for my hand
inside
was a walnut
butter brownie
(originally published in Erothanatos, Summer 2021)
in the midst of split
caffeine
tremors & vertigo
earth I
plopped
into sinkhole
a heap of turtle
shell floor tiles
you reached
for my hand
inside
was a walnut
butter brownie
(originally published in Erothanatos, Summer 2021)
It is eighty-two degrees in Pittsburgh and my trunk
is crammed so your DQ cake sits in the passenger seat,
moves the same speed I do in my car in this orbit
in this galaxy. There is so much matter to keep cool
in the universe, but there’s sunshine through my wind-
shield and you– I know– thaw as a passenger beside
me. I’m doing what I can: aiming all the frigid vents
that way, holding a folder to shade you. I drive fifty-
five in a thirty-five to avoid my mind entertaining a
milky flood mixed with dust, dog hair, cookie crumbs,
and lust pooling where you are, your name in icing
illegible– it’s fine, for now. Don’t freak out. I am
floating over a bridge, the sun forever taunting,
and soon I know you’ll go, in one way or another,
into the mouth of a thankful person– whether me,
trying to save you from this heat, or you, radiant
as the sun, seeing celestial bodies who– for at
least this rotation– you know revolve around you.
(originally published in Dodging the Rain, Spring 2020)