Ovulating in an Attic that Overlooks Town
Anchorless my window and immanent the night.
I’m falling, but the floor rises.
We stumble, dance in variation. Could I,
I’d keep from knowing
that distillate of seascapes
In the archipelago where whens, anywhats
maroon, I’m far drifting.
Encircle my waist with a strand of mercy.
Encircle my shadow, far-flung and crossing over.
Cold night, colder morning,
a hand extends, falters
holds the otherworld
figurined so blue.
The light, it fell inviolate