pale arms feeling like a star
around a rib or liver
a pool of blue night
how faint all the years
of blind selection
sound now
each careful moment of coupling
committed like spring
won’t always be here
like we haven’t arrived here again
it’s quiet
back in the houses and hospitals
people have begun
to open windows
the day blooms black and orange and
leaning over washpans
mothers sit in the shade
scrub the heavy storm air
between their bones
CJ Scruton is a non-binary poet living in Milwaukee, where they research ghost stories and are a poetry editor for Cream City Review. Their work has appeared in Puerto del Sol, Salamander, CutBank, and other journals. Find them on Twitter @cj_scruton or at cscruton.com.