Read More: A brief interview with Daniel O’Brien
I drove to the water’s edge— peeled at the leftover albedo
of a fruit I’d been eating. I had the same dream again:
I am drinking wine with Dionysus, you are
putting glasses back in the cupboard.
Out the kitchen window my pills start falling
from the scripted sky & land in the center
of the lake. In the depths
of the water: a gloved hand stripping itself
of its glove. There are so many things I am not.
On the shoreline where I last saw you,
you dumped what was left of the bottles. I couldn’t feel a thing—
my skin was badly weathered & full of glass.
Dionysus tells me again of the story where a man’s body dips,
dead-heavy, into the lanternless waves. How you left me
alone in the water, knowing full-well I would drown.
Chopin’s Heart I
in the family plot. My sister:
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