Sunday Evening (II)

  • Sunday Evening (II)
    Hair, Fabric, Stuffing

    a temporary relief,
    swaddled in fabric

    a fluent stutter
    as poignant as you recalled it
    to ring three times,
    neither long nor short
    water condenses on the window pane,
    there is a deliberate lack of periods

    you wake into the arms of frosted desires
    all the while it’s falling

    they are parceled out in rations

    the seduction of warmth,
    the preacher speaks quietly of pre-nostalgia