after alive, after another's arm, a turn- around – but not as beautiful. a bell begins to blink our bodies into view, come blue curtains of dawn. after capable of action comes desire now diminished, fraction of a familiar glow, holding. if an impulse, the nature of this beast: is it or isn’t it? tree branch once liveable, now made matches. might we more of morning? i name myself, and the naming nervous. the checklist reads: none. or nothing. if only the right ring, if only shapes stopped still. if only the bird kept its tongue – a tenderness? a we, a what, a whatever. did we dream the wind's delicate weavework in the frangipani? afterwards: i will walk the world. not yours. but mine.
Lorelei Bacht’s poetic work has appeared / is forthcoming in The Night Heron Barks, Queerlings, SoFloPoJo, Barrelhouse, Sinking City, Stoneboat, One Art, SWWIM, and elsewhere. They can be found on Twitter @bachtlorelei and on Instagram @lorelei.bacht.writer. They are currently watching the rain instead of working on a chapbook.