← v9n1, Spring 2010
Poetry · 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.