sonnet crown

++

Girl  

Thick air, overcast antique lights, 

sultry burnt orange cut with gauze blue 

The band gets ready to play, there is a 

water bottle sitting on top of the amp

Outside it rains, it’s been raining for most 

of the night, the street shines like an 

unpolished brass button. An older couple 

sits across from me, both have white hair, 

the man is wearing a pair of glasses that 

tastefully matches his knit sweater 

They each have a drink and, as the band

warms up, they banter and flicker

I move my heart off of my lap and wonder 

what would it be like to get old with you. 

Glass

What would it be like to get old with you, 

feels the same as little girls who dream 

about getting married when they are all

of five years old. But a girl can dream.

We wait for the train together, it sort of 

reminds me of a dream I keep having

where I’m carrying this big, heavy bag 

and I can’t find my way to the right 

platform, what does this mean you 

say it sounds like a stress dream, I agree but 

I left out the part where you appear in front 

of me, I touch you, you crumble in a gauze 

blue haze. You reach down and hook your index 

finger onto mine, I feel self conscious.

Sweet

Your hand on mine, I feel self conscious.

The few days before my period I 

feel like my face isn’t my face. Is it 

possible for people to steal faces, they 

say that you choose someone who looks like you.

I don’t think we look alike at all except for 

when you turn your back to me, we have 

similar haircuts. You put your hand on 

mine, your glasses have slid down your nose a 

bit, I wonder if you’ve ever stolen a 

face. But I have these thoughts about myself 

and I know for sure that I have not.

You trace my palm, I feel at ease

but I can cast a spell or two if needed.

Half

But I can cast a spell or two if needed

because it’s several weeks later we’re 

dancing in my studio apartment 

to a Bowie CD that I bought on eBay 

when I had a phase where I decided to 

go analog or whatever and I bought a 

CD player and a DVD player and 

a flip phone, this was before we met though 

I missed the convenience. You smell like 

worn-in cotton and a fresh magazine and 

strawberry cigarettes, like a fresh can of 

ink, a little sweet, I’ve never felt better 

The window shades are open, I forgot to 

close them I wonder who might be watching      

Matter

I wonder who might be watching me 

bite my lip over and over, I’m

underground watching my reflection 

in a cracked window, layers of dust and 

fingerprints of other denizen mages 

just like me. You canceled on me last 

minute yesterday, that was unlike you 

You left your glasses on my bedside table 

you said to meet you for dinner to 

make up for it. The restaurant is full of 

other wights and there you are looking 

like the galactic center, the mid 

century lighting splits you in half, 

I’ve been good, pretty busy (I missed you).

Drink

I’ve been good, pretty busy (I missed you) 

There’s some graffiti in the bathroom stall

written in stark black pointy letters it says 

Angel. Why do people deface things I say, 

it’s human nature, you answer, that’s not 

very romantic but that doesn’t matter 

indoors. Outside smells like rain and mixed 

concrete, soot on the off-color snow pile 

on the side of the street. You look at me, your 

eyes are the color of soot that mythic women 

used to shade their lids, smooth, unknowable 

and a little blue. You hold mercury under your 

tongue, I have gold in my mouth.

Lightning sparks on my teeth, I bite down.

Two

Lightning sparks on my teeth, I bite down 

It’s late and I can’t sleep, I’m dreaming about 

trains again, I’m looking for you, I think 

I have insomnia and you are asleep 

by now. You bought me earrings

they’re little amber charms, the backs poke 

my neck, maybe that’s why I woke up. 

Later we’re walking to the bar I’m 

wearing kitten heels and a leather skirt 

you have your wool coat and you look 

like burgundy and arcana, that’s pretty 

romantic. We get there and I get us drinks, 

you lean back to shed your shoulders, I sip 

the thick air and overcast antique lights. 

Charms

Thick air, overcast antique lights, 

what would it be like to get old with you?

Your hand onto mine, I feel self conscious

but I can cast a spell or two if needed

I wonder who might be watching me 

I’ve been good, pretty busy (I miss you) 

Lightning sparks on my teeth, I bite down 

Lightning falls from my hands, you understand 

I’ve been fine, I spend time by myself

I know who is watching me now 

I’m no wizard though, just a hunch

My heart onto yours, say you feel 

What is it like to get old with me? 

Thick air, brush the soot from my palms