I stole your trick, a dab of Dijon whisked
into the scrambled eggs, yellow to yellow,
a little tang. I will not give you credit.
Out back, scratched in snow, a wallow
where deer have slept. You grind your teeth at night.
Let’s fuck. Let’s eat too much ice cream.
Let’s walk the dog. You can dim the light.
Let’s finally watch Heaven’s Gate, the scene
where fresh-faced students twirl their ladies’ skirts
on the lawn, the scene where lovers skate a gyre
on ice laid thick like fondant over dirt,
the scene where everything is on fire.
Make me a drink. Show me how to start
this letter: dear friend, dear no one, dear heart.
Juliana Gray is the author of Roleplay (Dream Horse Press) and Anne Boleyn’s Sleeve, which won the 2013 Winged City Chapbook Press chapbook contest. Recent poems have appeared in or are forthcoming from PMS: poemmemoirstory, Tupelo Quarterly, Unsplendid, and elsewhere. An Alabama native, she lives in western New York and teaches at Alfred University.