Poem by Mei-mei Berssenbrugge
Illustration by Kiki Smith
Working backward in sleep, the
last thing you numbed to is what
What if that image were Eros as
What would it be like if you
contemplated my words and I felt
Animals, an owl, frog, open their
eyes, and a mirror forms on the
When insight comes in a dream,
and events the next day
illuminate it, this begins your
synchronicity, asymptotic lines
of the flights of concordances.
An owl opens its eyes in deep
For the first time, I write and you
don't know me.
Milkweed I touch floats.