of the breach


Come in when you visit.
A crooked step doesn’t bite.
The dog will;
He begs to be ignored

If you smell the backed up drain
As we eat, breath; relax

With the cheek only butter is spread
And barring a meaty mouth
Our egos will be too

Thinner is a practice;
Or it is patience;
I am losing it.

A lifetime is what I mean.

We should be so remarkable
To wear things as she wore things

Wore them.

Off the shoulder is how she wore things.
That and how her hair sat;
Or did it fall

I still can’t ask
But will we at least remember?
Because elsewhere and not now
We know and knew better

Carrying them with eyes closed
And a witnessed breath,
Therein and in that far
Is a threshold; a horizon;
An edge and a familiar cheek.

We will stammer; stumble
Obliquely toward the center

Or finally we touched them