excerpt from aporia: :porchlight
By Rebecca Stoddard
::
as if imitating being rolled
on an ocean floor and
the cessation of breath were simply a
joyride
a center developing yellow, an obedient lover
in sharp masada, a shanty,
an island of all night postures,
inside a tiki-torch glow, the muted color attributed to
the binding rooms
sweet arcana: :lovebird: : hanging rope
where porchlights swing, water faintly against glass remorse begging
intrusions and invitations (her variants)
and skin breaks open over
and over and over against that tip,
as immediate as parting