Are we still travelling?

Whiteness, you come out of a dog’s mouth

On a cold day. Apron,

I lie within you like an apple.

You’ve lit up the forest. Two

Black winds you sell. Do you still

Guard me from thieves

On the road fearsome and lonesome?

To tie my breath inside you

Into a knot—find the way

Back to your old scent.

It still hasn’t bought me a mocking bird.

We separated, sacred time.

I stretch between two chairs. Recently,

I started wearing blinders. One-legged,

Since there’s no room for the other.

The dead love eggs. This is

That pebble tucked beneath you

Speaking. Bared now,

For those who grind their teeth in sleep

To lay down their heads.