In the foyer, I was gifted the extra day.
It scratched happy tallies in the wood panel. I wore
Sheerer black, gentle as a shadow
lace peeking from the daft
and slighter light. I crawled the
length. I did not eat. I let the sun do
what it does.
This was the night: dry and decanted
dark and flowing after recitation, surface tension broken
by adagio swaying in the safehouse, Saint Valentine outwitting
a mysterious end, the crimson-rinsed villa, Odelia
running hideously late; it took two whole years to remember
what it is to be starstruck
without being afraid.
The next morning, my good luck searched his jacket pocket
for candy; he was sheepish and taller than me,
very straight-backed from the good glass
door, as laudatory as silence can be
if you’re standing where the swoon is
if you want to believe in all that-
in the sweetness
of the long train down from Yonkers,
thin, crimson socks pressed between flat and fitted sheet,
in dawn rising-
always elsewhere- forming,
in Odette, the Tay. They sleep under me,
I pay my weight in attention.
Alexus Erin originally hails from Princeton, New Jersey and currently resides in Scotland. Her written work specializes in the theoretical frameworks of embodiment, as well as feminist, gender, critical race, culture and music, as well as environmental justice studies. Erin’s first novel was published in 2009. Her poetry has previously appeared in Potluck Magazine, the Melanin Collective, The Nervous Breakdown, The Audacity (audacityzine.com), and a host of others. More recently, Erin completed her first chapbook, Descant, which is set to be released by Saucepot Publishing.
Photo by Kassandra (K.) Piñero. You can find them on instagram.