SARA MOORE WAGNER

Investigating the Shudder

Sing of/for all
the quick glances
missed, cover your eyes
against the light, hermetic-
we are also wanderers
and this is why I've grown
to want you cut
off. The world is only
alive in the palm
of my hand, take it.
Be with me
as a screw in the side,
hinge me. I've been so
alone, the hum
of the television, this
garden of voices
and silence, media-
how should I pray
for this, for you, how can
I come so selfish before-
god, grand me this
other who will never look
away from my face, as if
it were a watchface, as if
it could tick down the hours.
Here is the real story, I am
Calypso on the beach, or else
I am not myself, or else
I know what it means
to keep someone, to keep you
away from yourself. My pain
starts in the groin
and moves up, I want
you, can give you
these grapes hanging
from my mouth, this
music, this body, can
take your body,
build a boat,
get out clean
as the sea.