Three Fascinations
1.
–to wake to an alarm
of kisses, a slow
fastening embrace, not
the standard issue
cold compress pillow.
2.
It’s not—I shrieked
—not business as usual.
The words, as the car
climbed, exhilarated:
a rise each iteration,
shriller than the last,
increased until,
as if fastened
in their grip, the grip
of mourning, I could claim
to be lifted above the drear
din of the mundane.
3.
Rifts, elisions, occult
desires, concrete
regrets: sorted not
unlike laundry into day-piles
and night; dream and
day-dream; the unattained,
the unattainable; into “. . . of
what’s difficult” “ . . . to
a dying animal”; into what,
of that, can be goaded,
bleating, into words.
