Pillbox

2 poems by Dylan Rossi: bliss and Distant train & what to say

bliss and Distant train

beckonsWe sit criss-
cross in the apple
treeshade. humm-
ing a light slipped
like the squeezed
lemon in my water—
BeckonsAn echo or a hand (laid
on my cheek) re-
moved Through my hair I crave
the warmth
of yourDroningNo-not-you-I’m-only
distracted by
the vague murmur or
the distant horn wailing
like a cow, fat and dis-
morphed to resemble an-
other happy coupleNo-not-us-just hear
the rustle of the leaves,
the breeze drifting by
like a train— that empty coun-
tryside hill-ridden grassland
speckled with chimney tops and—
the train beckoning. Shrieking
like a bag-
pipe. Ripping the picnic
blanket like a turkey-
leg leading us along like
livestockChirping. bird
song (softly,
gently)

what to say

i break off [and
unfold] these steps–
[a piece of paper] i
would forget [how good]–
you know and i’m [it felt,]
like [no–] my words
keep fluttering, [i was]
captivated by your smile,
[emanating, from] your
sweet face–
[a blank page
in a notebook–] would you
recognize [my handwriting]
me if all i had [was for you,] was
a look [seeping] like the one
[deeper into] the night
coaxed out of me–
would you love me [the
turbulent pink midnight.] if i
said i loved you– [the clock–]
i’d frantically throw the wheel
in circles spinning if
i was told [i was told]
that i couldn’t see you. [that it couldn’t]
if for a second [tell the seconds apart,]
you were a world away [as if time were a stream.]
i would [i believe] fall through space [i fell] to see you.
[into your trance.]