all I crave is light & yet
winter
sky is busy imitating milk
frozen in an upturned bowl
to be a person is a sounding
through,
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.