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.