Page 30 - Vol. V #6

Archipelagos (Made of Collapsing)
I.
In the hollows,
between the trees, where the woods come into sharp
relief, like ribs,
like bone-shards
stretched with breath,
chambering
Five o’clock, and already the windows are starting to bleed. How fragile it looks
beneath
my collarbones, my unsung
II.
Let sunlight slip like halos across my eyes, around the shadow you left behind, climbing
III.
In our eyes, the stars col-
lapse beautifully
inside a vanishing room,
we are here, again.
21
in the light, this little world of ours, rough and looming over the skin of it all.
guitar strings answer
the dark of your mouth (again and again), singing all
of the bruises.
out of each other and back
into our own bodies by breakfast.
What a lovely eclipse
you continue to be.
like scribbled notes across blue music, rejoicing, we are here,
alexander mccoy