← v18n2, Fall 2019
Poetry · Volume 18, Number 2

Borderless

I.

On the night train

cherries wrapped

in newspaper crackle red:

shame’s counterpoint.

The blood beneath my skin

and the blood beneath yours

wear each other out.

II.

February’s malice—

from the window

I spot a fox cutting

across the snow.

A lone blade.

It startled.

No, it was chased.

III.

Everything is mind.

The fox and the cherry,

the shame and the blade.

Even the mouth of the outer world

sipping gingerly

on the broth of us.