American Culture · American Literature · Aubade · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · LGBT · Passage · Poetry · Queer · Religion

Meg Day

As if one is a shadow stitched to the other,
they sit, knees bent & parted, cradled in the basin
of the clawfoot, her belly to his spine. She leans
into him, her cheek resting against the blade
in his back, & watches the window above
the pull-chain warm from bath water to blue.
He hangs his head & keeps his hands underwater,
covering all that might split their silhouette.

— Meg Day, “Aubade,” Last Psalm at Sea Level. (Barrow Street Press; 1st edition, October 1, 2014)

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s