all I crave is light & yet
sky is busy imitating milk
frozen in an upturned bowl

to be a person is a sounding
            host of breath
rehoused & rib scribbled inside

you there above
                   the page
casting your gaze over us
wanting us to be your mouth

& what would you say
                     with my body
bowed to bear the weight
of a line so taut it sings

Copyright © 2021 by Philip Metres. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on December 15, 2021, by the Academy of American Poets.