Sarah Cooke: 517

Spring '11 TOC

in he told me New Jersey there
            was an off ramp where they piled corpses
of bad drivers
            a piece of gossip
            he passed on brightly

this being overheard:
I am not
the story of myself

this being a secret
I didn’t tell 
but was widely known

I dreamt a question
and answered it awake


that snow is not white close up
seemed important
as if deception of senses
had a role to play

            (the dog
                        doesn’t like snow)

I dreamt of lovemaking
in a vacant building
and wanted it awake

we made a promise
to think of each other
from three states away
at 5:17pm

I thought of an entrance
and him standing in it
curled toes
on gray carpet
this being our secret

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Not Enough Night
Not Enough Night
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