Darwin Light // Erica Bernheim

[iatrogenicmyth.livejournal.com]

When a train goes too fast,
it shakes. You must stow your
self, like you know what two
o'clock means. A stewardess
and her Xanax will easily be
parted, even sugar and cream
is a less natural combination,
even the sight of an old woman
putting on lipstick makes me cry,
my eyelashes black stucco, your
hands become rays again, flat and lethal.
I could place you in the middle of
those tracks, set you down, tiny, and
walk away. I was invisible and now
I am just fading. I was among
people I could not speak to and pressed
my fingers through a bruise
because there was nothing
to get stuck on. I saw those
behind me die with eyes no one
knew about, I lost sight of you, the moon
abandoned the sun, agreed to leave
the moon alone and not call so late.
I am feathered, alone. What I want:
twin squid babies suckling my tomorrows
the way deeply sour candy still tastes good
—to have that clamp around the heart—
two squids, four eyes, one with smaller feet.
( Love depends on its moment of arrival )