Free Trespass by Thomas Dooley Page B

eggs.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Today the tomb
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  is not empty, the stone
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  still wedged in. I can’t go on
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  distracting myself
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  from the smell
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  of burial spices
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  the disturbed earth, you
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  have not come back.

    Â 
    X
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Fridays are the hardest.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Your body moves through
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  happy hours without
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  me, I can’t even
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  chart you,
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  I want
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  to see the lines
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  you make
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  on the map of the city,
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  if they cross the lines
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  I make, do we
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  create a pattern
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  unknowingly,
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  does my finger
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  run down the glass
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  at the table you just left
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  at the café on Dekalb? We are
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  no longer destinations,
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  single blinking dots.

    Â 
    XI
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  If I forget, remind me
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  when we drove
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  past the dry roadside
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  farms, remind me when I looked out
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  on the neat
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  wheels of hay, my breathing
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  hard then stilled, what you never said
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  when I wiped my face,
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  remind me of your
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  neglect and the long ditches
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  and if I forget the annulling
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  of the day, if I want a night
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  with you, let that car ride
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  remind me.

    Â 
    XII
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Our first time back together,
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  magnets, my body
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  pushed into you and your eyes
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  rolled back. The second time
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  I stared at your feet
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  while I sucked you off
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  the small muscles
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  in my calves squeezed
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  and released.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  The heart?
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  The first position of union, the second
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  something polar,
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  getting back to your place
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  that first time
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  was like flight. The second,
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  traffic at the bridge—as if the city
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  said wait here
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  don’t cross the water .

    Â 
    XIII
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  here take a universe     darts of light     a pan flute
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  chirps our ending song     go now to the cedary wield of smooth
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  creatures     of glabrous torsos caprine legs     who am I
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  to clasp seedstorms barehanded     mornings when the surf
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  clung to its mist     stubborn     I will make this break soft as skiff
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  on water     gone in a sprint you sleek windjammer     I give you
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  June’s