The wrinkling in my peripheral
vision repeats. What’s moving?

Not the building, its bodies.
The river beside.

So close we’re
almost in it?

That’d be another state,
limbs in liquid, rock-dented.

Crushed a dead moth with my sleeve.
Anywhere I lean, wing.

Lily Brown is from Massachusetts and lives in Athens, GA. Her first full length collection of poems, Rust or Go Missing, is available from Cleveland State University Poetry Center.