zafusy

boots scrape onetwo
across the kitchen
floor a smallprayer whispered
rubber soled soiled marked noted
and repeated fervently helpmehelpme go to bed
her hair counted thousands of times
as whisps
mere confidential
one
the shoe marks marry her feet to the floor
two
the secret of her time gild his eyes the color of gold, pinned, strung to surface and crevice, praying ohgodoh internally
three
the secret of the moon is her punctual decline
four
her letter on the floor speaks roundly of instance carried from and carried forth and inactivity

here
here
the foxtrot only reimburses in pity
and his hands knew nothing of their surroundings
they only
pressed

Russell McDermott

View all poems by Russell McDermott