point ephemeral

            there’s green in the air of my dream where naked
you curve along the bed in the shape of a pipe
            and i ask the wallpaper’s dots and the yawning
window angled open for your name and you
            augur an aggregate smile while withheld in a pocket
of breath are words that could quell me, spelled
            in a sisterly tongue, a language of night too
verdant for virgins –
                                                just to bear witness to you
            forming and rising in these ephemeral gardens
would be decent, would be enough, it would
            touch me to know the shape of your blades, the
lines of your etching, your joy and your history –
            there’s green in the air of my dream where naked
i breathe an admixture of leaves, trees,
                                                all you exhale, all you believe

Ethan Milner is a writer in Oregon and a therapist at an adolescent day treatment school. His work has appeared in the journals ditch,decomP, Short, Fast, & Deadly, The Residential College Review, and Xylem.

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