Jan 29, 2020
“I would have loved him in any era, in any dark age; I would take him into the twilight and unwind him, slide my fingers through his hair and pull him to his knees. As it is, this afternoon, late in the twentieth century, I sit on a chair in the kitchen with my keys in my lap, pressing the black button on the answering machine over and over, listening to his message, his voice strung along the wires outside my window where the birds balance themselves and stare off into the trees, thinking even in the farthest future, in the most distant universe, I would have recognized this voice, refracted, as it would be, like light from a small, uncharted star.”
— Dorianne Laux, from ‘As It Is’, What We Carry: Poems
