Theme III: Future, “Will you close the shade?”

By Tia Ramos

The sun is falling down again.

You’ve always said dusk is the loneliest time of day.

Your skin reflects like construction paper

as you reach for the strings

and off you bounces only sound now—

the kitchen clang of the shades, my cough at the dust

that fell in fright on the backs of your forearms

and we sleep, once again, past our loneliness.

What are you dreaming of?

I’m dreaming of the nights warm with your glass & smoke,

of my desperation, of giving your roommate a show in my sleep

of you

of you, my darling

my paper man, every marble

from paddling your soft feet to sleep.

I’m seeing a lake of ink behind the sun, and why won’t you join me?

We’ve never been here before, you say

And I see, I’ve become a leaf

And god I wish you could float, inside

With me, because the sun is showing

Me all of your pores, unfilled and I wish

For it to stop, stop,

stop snoring you whisper.

And dusk has not left.

And now it seems that every flower I see,

opening to the sun, thinks only of the shade.


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