← v9n1, Spring 2010Poetry · Volume 9, Number 1
The Dream Animals Long to Return
when we‘ve lost each other, learned our new bodies,
we hold little in common: a taste for insects,
temperature. You roost. Your thousand-eyed squad sees
my plumed tail in the cave. I snort hoarse syllables, shake
dank air, dream coffee cup, toothpick, earring—objects
to summon you, restore our human shapes.
