June sixteenth and the tense night bathes
as it did her lover, the one who kissed her unwashed
feet. She thought him mad. She thought
him unholy in his affections. Where now.
Last night the fire alarm circuit tripped
itself over nothing, moaned until
she took a thick pillow to the noise-maker
and smothered darkness with darkness.
The neighbourhood dogs wound each other’s
howls into skeins as she lay electric
and anxious that somehow it wasn’t enough.
There was such hope in those damp-haired days—
the world open as a body prone to dreams,
a key held out to a prisoner like the possibility of flight.