What We Found
after Frank O’Hara
Light translucence in our dreams we are running
toward the light and the light is soft and the light is
at the end of what is known, though what is known can never
be understood and what is understood can never
be quantified why we cower at the passage of time the
holes in our heads our hands the weight
of displacement, our mouths the inaugural overlap
we run for love we run for reassurance of what is
found and all thoughts vanish, our hands cupped
the night yellow and spilling in our quiet coming
Brianna Albers is a poet, writer, and storyteller, located in the Minneapolis suburbs. A student at University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, she is currently studying psychology and the philosophy of literature. Her poems can be found in Words Dance and Winter Tangerine Review, and she is currently compiling a collection of her poetry. Her debut chapbook is forthcoming, hopefully. Her fingers are crossed. Selected by Yasmin Belkhyr.
Image © Matt Brown via Flickr Creative Commons.