Sarah Blackman Voyeurism

If there is not a love like your only love. If the blue jay stammers in your tree. If, unhinged jaw, you gullet the snake’s new eggs. If bounty in the woodpile, bounty in the unanswerable spaces. If I haven’t yet asked you a question. If I don’t believe your greyhounds are rescue dogs. If I put a sign in my yard that asks ‘what is the grass?’ If 100 years of women looking into the white ceiling corner at night. Under the quilt at night. Beside his body at night. Warm at night and dozing against the alarm of the child who frets her own white ceiling. If they rose and looked out the windows at you. In your kitchen. What are you drinking? Who is standing inside you in the dark?


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