Two strangers

pass away & the summer stations. Of the indelible & the
tremulous, both a fellowship & an indictment. Slowing down to
idle, swaying in suspension, a momentum that can spiral to a
stop or start up. Forward for ten seconds & undo to get
somewhere. To mirror, to double evanescence. Of the
diptych, non-binary binary, the &/or, refusal to decide, multiple
in the dual, refusal of one & space of other. The swampy
bugginess of endless rain flips the scorch & wildfires of the
place just left. On earth anywhere stresses the body
Romance doesn’t overwhelm ecosystem but only some know
a sensory letdown moving away from the ends of the
earth, where friend scarcity & giant ancient plants daily invite
the paranormal. Turbid, brackish, super confluent, my new river
homes me for others. Each sound a dislodged world
skirting close to a god complex, fade up into the ringing
without the percussive start. Feet when wheeled or jarred by a knee
Of the jolting screech pattern before the stationed hum

From Teeter (Nightboat Books, 2023) by Kimberly Alidio. Copyright © 2023 by Kimberly Alidio. Used with the permission of the author.