Kissing is an experiment
we’ve already tried but
there remains more to learn.
We’re amnesiacs.
We know and forget steadily
like a clock returning its hands
to move in circles across its face.
Once, the river ran red
with dye the factory let go.
Once, an assassin breached
the saffron gates. You appeared
without warning. I was a lamb
in a field, two and a half days.
Soon, a ship would carry us away.
A ship carried me here.
from Little StrangerFind it in the library
Copyright © 2013 Lisa Olstein
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.