Mad-hatter of a glitter-eyed

night, send our ghosts a savior.

Kiss our strength away

until our being blends into the moon.

 

Broken under this bald clap of light, half-dead

bugs sizzle in the shag carpet. Deliver us

over to that fruited flesh, into that smooth

darkness where we can hide together.

                                                                  —Ryan Romine

Also by this author
Published in the January 14, 2011 issue: View Contents

Most Recent

© 2024 Commonweal Magazine. All rights reserved. Design by Point Five. Site by Deck Fifty.