There was no achievement
In | the airfield |. The airfield was
Our wedding. No, it was our house
Become our | plane |.
I collected the intensifiers of lightning
And | circled | them around me.
I named my seven sons
And then blew up their phones.
The baby has learned the language of desire
And what it means | to possess |. For outside
He says | my outside |. For down, he says
My down. Not inside, but outside. No. No.
| No |. The baby has learned the language of mirrors.
Self-reflected, re-embodied, and un-hinged.
What does | a baby | look like to a baby?
Hot and dark. Hot and dark.
Apple as | an apple | as an apple as a substance.
Say night night to this one.
Say night night to everyone.
Say goodbye to whoever is not in the room.
Copyright © 2026 by Sara Deniz Akant. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on May 26, 2026, by the Academy of American Poets.
