Another Time   |  Amanda Leigh Lichtenstein

Back snapped like time capsule

Bursting with dust from the good old days

Bracketed and packaged in saran wrap,

Parceled and stamped fresh to study

The hair and skin, who needed it? I emptied

The belly of wanting and insisted on despair

I steered the horse into water to see it swim,

Pressed play on its whinny and wondered

Paused its disastrous attempts, the bending

Of knees and eyes wide in horror – oh, dark

Cloud where are you to complete the mood?

I wouldn't look at what was sad, not then.

The hands fold into a second glance, fists

Like knots of crystal waving in the dark

I need to accept boats as decent modes

Of transport and forget the gallant horse.

Accept maps as representations

And not itself any sort of real plan.

I know the difference when I try to call home:

The numbers disappear inside my mouth.

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