"A frame" appeared in the CLACKAMAS LITERARY REVIEW, a print journal, Spring 2015.
A
frame
As the elevator rises to the
third floor
and rain sprinkles your
past, you examine
the toad under the plastic
truck and I try to
appear unconcerned with the
age of your new
bicycle, because appearing
in drag in the talent show
has left me exhausted
I know what this
means to you and your
girlfriends and how simple
a grilled cheese sandwich
should be to smell
at noon in a small A-frame
house in the
woods at the end of a
two-track, but instead
I think of dragonflies
mating in flight and how
amber must feel cooling
around the body. I know
you'll say that this is not
in spite of everything
but because of it, but
again, I don't know
your history, or even how to
salsa dance, though I
would like to, with you, and
get fat-free
yoghurt with almonds and
pecans, though what you
said last night is true, or
will be: out
here on the edge of things,
being must be more
interesting than the center,
which is still as necessary
as night and dreams
All of which makes me
happy
to see you running barefoot
in a skirt, though I've
burned my fingers now, or
will, and anyways,
your sister called. She said
to say hello.
