Never just me.
However you need,
however, I’ll be.
Like smoke slid
in like previous whiskey,
fire wisps,
fire drowns.
And follows itself
into new form,
first
afraid it’s too alike.
A fraud must
believe, too.
Then, forgetting
how unlikely.
A centaur’s first street
fair, alone.
Then so lucky,
only a dream is so lucky.
Sometimes laughing
with others
who must sense
us, condensed,
frontbodied, pushing
soft walking
circles onto a ledge.
Imperceptible
where your face
turns into breath
and vanishes
in the home.
Can’t matter
in the home.
Some fire
makes form
only folly,
however all three
follow us to take
your shape
down with mine.
from Human Dark with SugarFind it in the library
Copyright © 2008 Brenda Shaughnessy
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.