a literary journal

POETRY

Make me a Pallet on Your Floor

 

After Alex Bell

Gather pine needles.

Make a nest. Flock

with feathers, strands

of hair, swaths of cloth.

Make it soft.

Capture all the pillows

in the house. Close

the curtains. Shine

your moonlight eyes.

Illuminate my bones.

Strike a match.

Light a candle.

I will spread

myself like wax

upon your floor.

I will curl into us,

ribs, hips, wrists.

I will circle three

times, draw into your

side, never go.

The fox, the wolf, the bear,

the beasts remain wild,

swirling. I will keep vigil.

I will listen all night

for your breathing.