The People-Wars
Jennifer Faylor


When he finds a way across he parenthesizes
my face; this way he can never lose me again.

He reminds me how like the sea otters
we are, how they tie themselves together with kelp

before they go to sleep, for fear of being separated.


Tonight the bombs will make a guest appearance,
they'll empty the skies out into
our hearts. This is all okay, if he can shell-

shock me, can flatten clouds down so it doesn't hurt
as much when we lie on the floor. He tells me
shadow puppets can be stars, if the world equals

this room. And what if this room equals a year
of togetherness? Each floorboard a week.
Each cupboard a "yes". Each window an argument.

(We will pretend to be other people as we make love.)