“Night” by Jaime Erin Johnson
By Jenny Browne
Always walked this close between the rows.
Always smoked so many seeds.
You will find yourself dragging
a live rabbit
by one foot, the other kicking.
Later, I tried a smaller size.
There was a time when only beggars
Brief as corn, as silk.
It made me think of Sappho saying tomorrow
you had better use your soft hands.
Nothing I have known ever seemed real
until I touched you with it.