May 5, 2015

Greatly Be Gentle

Written by Phillip B. Williams

Read by Matthew Nienow

In the night-spun clearing we were spent, star-burst wide
and lending our skin to the sun’s failing heat.

Where your hand sat my clavicle met, unbending.
Where are your arrows to pull this bow-bone taut
till timid, till cracked so night could crawl its way inside?

Was a sharpness where you weighted yourself against me.
Was a blind spot in my body’s breakage, where tightness
was soldiered away, spread well-winged and with blade.


A dream in my night broke my sleep.
I only remember waking to streetlights
through the window, a dull yellow
washing over everything. My darkness
a lighter shade of itself. On my bare chest,
light masked the door to the dream.