sonnet

 

by Simone Muench & Dean Rader

 

 

Now let us go back to the stunning
caress, beguiled by an eye’s emerald 
cunning, even imagine murder
of our sleeping, significant other.

Let us imagine the other. Let 
us consider his significance. And 
now her absence. And now back to the 
caress. The eye never knows what it sees.
 
In the distance, wilderness, a gold door— 
This way or its contrary? Caress 
of the new equals absence of the old.

 

Let us fall forward into a presence

that is not here, let us look inside our

own blindness, let us finally awake.