Melissa Atkinson Mercer
you did a good thing | terribly
took up the death mask
& wanted it | wore it to waltz in the green night | on the other side of town
I did a frantic thing
with such poise | that my heart floated inside my skin like a rotted fish
(when my back cracks closed | I will wander the town | wanting | & no one | will give me |
even what they do not want themselves)
I mean | we did a brave thing recklessly
wove our boats with the hair of the god of flight & did not try | to swim