“Come With Me”

he said, meaning Let us be free of our fealty to blood

but not of each other. I said

Nothing. The lamp sway shivered my indecision.

The lamp light vivified my shadows. I noted

things about the room around us

—inventory of our belonging,

random & wrong & quitless

like skin tags. Bookshelves held up

the walls. The coffee table upheld

more books on its legs; the mortal lives behind the word

woodwork; the next-to-nothing we spent for those

spent years. When everything here eventually

gave out, we got more. Innovations

like the cigarette & the percolator

competed to keep our minds inventive, productive

as mines & one-trick fields

& same-fated farmers paid a fraction

of a tractor. To track these intakes down rows

of a pedigreed European auto stock corporation notebook

legitimized manuscripts that were otherwise mine

but, for archivists in the failing universities of the future

who own my dead papers,

harder on the eyes. As for love,

I knew I longed to be valued

in such a way as to watch his hands

atrophy & petrify, reluctant to degrade

my image of self-sufficiency. It cost too much

to be among the state’s estate as long as I would live

to have nobody give a little, if just a damn

that today I ambulated; or imagine me

bathing, submerged to the shoulders

& disaccustomed to thirst

for clean water. Please, please, he repeated. Begging

hounded by its echo. A voice was singing the spirit

he figured he’d recovered.

He got up to get free. He stood up

to leave me. I hovered like the shadow

crossing his heart, saying Nothing. Suddenly he

was such a man (manpower

surrounded me), with his new leaves & physical uncertainties

he was outfitted to risk

while the memory of feeling cold

knitted my skin. The wind came in

& leaves turned over leaves alit upon

his body / one of the bodies he’d chosen     I closed it:

to leave.                                        the eyes,

                              the hole in the ground,

my mouth, the door. What opened:

the decanter, the window, the

surface of water, my hand &

another body leapt over another rushing in.


Also by Justin Phillip Reed

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