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hold on (me)
Elizabeth Brueggemann
I see your sore, core-through ache
this pinnacle fate, stone-planted as a flag
in me snagged
pluck twinge I cannot shake
our full weight
compress you to stamps, postmarked—
dated—going out
for dinner
sway (in one breath) him him hymn
and the sink—running—sounds familiar rush
you were then
cut-through with music
prone now to
sprout four-times hands,
arc & wheeling, on-fire
lover my odd seraph
still oncoming
I twist a rustless hangnail loose
shallow pinpoint-chasm weft
30
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