No dust collects in a girldream. Black smoke like ellipses sugars the hills, the barns outside
taking shelter from rain when we remember to button our coats
on the long walk home. You hold my hand, the months here twitching, each river
a coyote running through—belly up, upside down, velvet with the fragrance of moonfall.
This dream is a teenaged revision of terrestrial bodies
that do not harm. Our eyelids like foldaway flowers. My heart like a gosling I follow
expecting your mouth pulling north. You tell me this is wildfire season
but the mountains have simmered for thousands of years. In June, the night snake quivers
and pretends we are fatal. A clearwing moth alights on your collar
like a strawberry moon. Keep still. I want us to consider this moon like a body
of water. I want us to consider our bodies like water, in study of connected phenomena.
What dreams did we bury into liquid like stones? I want a ghost with a pierced nose to tell me
I can kiss her in a wheatfield, to slit my wandering clavicles, retrieve the gold coins
I was saving for winter. I am a necromancer. I can hold my own hand when I sit on the bed,
my Otherself a wolfsong in a nightdress. Pour me inside of her ear. Keep still.
on the long walk home. You hold my hand, the months here twitching, each river
a coyote running through—belly up, upside down, velvet with the fragrance of moonfall.
This dream is a teenaged revision of terrestrial bodies
that do not harm. Our eyelids like foldaway flowers. My heart like a gosling I follow
expecting your mouth pulling north. You tell me this is wildfire season
but the mountains have simmered for thousands of years. In June, the night snake quivers
and pretends we are fatal. A clearwing moth alights on your collar
like a strawberry moon. Keep still. I want us to consider this moon like a body
of water. I want us to consider our bodies like water, in study of connected phenomena.
What dreams did we bury into liquid like stones? I want a ghost with a pierced nose to tell me
I can kiss her in a wheatfield, to slit my wandering clavicles, retrieve the gold coins
I was saving for winter. I am a necromancer. I can hold my own hand when I sit on the bed,
my Otherself a wolfsong in a nightdress. Pour me inside of her ear. Keep still.
