Folio

Folio · 2017

So Many Wasted Words in a Dictionary

Nathan Caines


There’s nothing to say

Now,

From the shelf a scratched silver reflection

Stares

back and wonders neutrally

About

How heavy his arms feel,

Nearly

Dreamlike, sinking past the white-floorboards,

But

I drift into a mess of mismatched blankets.

Thumb, pointer, middle,

I

Watch them tap soundlessly

Over

Skin and red tendons thinking of falling apart,

Listening

To nothing, you’d said my bed’s too soft,

Now

As I fall away awake, I realize you were

Right.


Folio · 2017