Poetics

xlix

what is it we cast away,
when we throw rocks into the lake?
or to be more accurate,
what kind of monster are we trying to wake?
now that i’ve run out of names
for the monsters, i turn to your face —
 

from a distance I watch you laugh,
watch your seahorse body move,
your perfect teeth, the shoes you love.
all I can think of now is the lake
of our Holocene years,
how back then it was so quiet
we only threw stones at each other.

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