Long-incumbent one, you’ve felt the back of me, the blush,
the cool and mute refusals:

                                                                 often hollow. 

Once you put your arms around me, lifted me and shook.
                                                                Had you ever heard a scanter rattle?

Lay me down, a lullaby.                       …

Ashamed because I’m drained

because I’ve slept

because I’ve dreamt.

Branches at the window, scratch—itch

to alter glass,           as if they can.

It was a long time before I knew the moon

is no reflective pool,

 …

Let’s pretend you’re me, I’m you—we
lie on our backs in the snow

and watch the cow jump over the roof.
It’s really the moon, but say the roof

and say my name is Susie,
yours is Trick. You’re the …