Sierra Nelson and Loren Erdrich
Page 3
PAINFUL LANDSCAPE
In less than 2 weeks, this feeling will crack—
a fine fracture sometimes known as filament.
I held my breath as you tied the apron,
the heat of your hands, the bow at my back.
A dark head full of dark thoughts meets a ferry.
Infidelity burns in its narrow white bed.
Tender hooves ascend the mountain
the lake bitterly inverts with every step.
Each year after fighting the antlers fall off,
but we can’t stop lamenting lost velvet and bone.
When I said filament, I meant forever.
Shake your poor, incandescent head—
I know we were meant for each other.
Birds of fine feather, flocking asunder.
TIDE: ebb and flow at sea
TIED: fastened
High _______________, we met in the dark by the docks.
If you choose tide, go to page 9.
