Sprites scattered the living room
when I entered this morning.
Emptiness filled it
as if everyone stopped talking.
I will buy that bus ticket today.
And marriage? Take this photo.
Place it somewhere.
Your favorite mirror.
I will hover among layers
of face powder and memory.
Your window.
I will float in tree limbs and storm clouds.
Emptiness filled it
as if everyone stopped talking.
I will buy that bus ticket today.
And marriage? Take this photo.
Place it somewhere.
Your favorite mirror.
I will hover among layers
of face powder and memory.
Your window.
I will float in tree limbs and storm clouds.
— Critics of Mystery Marvel, 2018