Somnambulant ray, I’ve seen you once before
I’ve side eyed you once before and decided—
No, known—that one day we would touch faintly, then
Still fainting, still feigning disinterest, still
Straining in shadows to hear your voice,
Lay down together on the floor of
What is the topography of your voice and
How arduous is the trek to its rumble?
Towering firs of laughter I know I know I
Will never feel your aftermath, your
Underbrush silences unheard of but for a
Single late-day trail of your light:
Late winter breath, signalling your hidden shapes.
- First read at Kwia, Berlin, March 12, 2022.
- Copyright © 2021 Bitsy Knox, all rights reserved.