Simon Perchik

Your eyes are covered with grass
with paths living inside my bones
as waterfalls and distances

though everything I say
you mistake for gestures
or when you walk slowly

–it’s been too long! What you see
has no snow, no between us
you can grip as if it was yours

buried with me the way each path
is fed the narrowness beneath
and overflows, trading places

even now, even when you leave
holding on to shadows and your arms
become an open sore.

These piles hold back :each finger
embraced the way darkness
covers a sky no longer needed

and what you breathe out
stays black till it cools
closes and overhead the dirt

shades you though clouds
left in the open are useless now
pulled along behind these bars

used to hands growing huge
in sunlight, in this makeshift prison
filling with mist and shovels.

Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, Forge, Poetry, Osiris, The New Yorker and elsewhere. His most recent collection is The Osiris Poems published by box of chalk, 2017. For more information, including free e-books, his essay titled “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities” please visit his website at www.simonperchik.com.
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