Blackbird Archive← v12n2, Fall 2013Poetry · Volume 12, Number 2
A new science
the two densities catch in each other.
There are new shapes
every day: the body meets the bone cage
as clouds stir the tops of trees. And we are walking
amid these same trees and his voice spreads
like an ache, louder and louder—the wind
overtakes. I breathe it in, and him,
and it stretches within me. It finds my eyes,
my throat. Its red leaves are in me, falling, falling—
a red sea.
