by Pascal O'Loughlin
the Living Bride and prayerful
dreams of pillows pale & sparkling exemplary gowns

O city of dead entertainments, father & mother, night & day,
whose streets corral the watchful & whose alleyways & less fashionable
she finds particularly now & always second nature:

I who am nobody feel surprisingly at ease I am

exhale       urge to       has, mercifully, been

nonetheless optimistic and to feed & to open & to close eyes very carefully during
daylight, which is, at every moment, every tender shining particle,

return home