When you woke your heart was still asleep and this made it heavy
You made leaves in dark look yellow; you took the moon hidden behind trees
You feared someone you never met knew the shape of your hands
Love was fuller escaping that angler
Denial you welcomed back when the answer left alone
We vied for the former world you put a blanket over
carving the space black with a brush
by yellow I meant shoes looking slim
by lettuce I meant yellow thrown on stew
by yellow I meant allowing yourself look old
by small birds I meant yellow wanting to leave
I wasn't seeing hawk in your name
and you threw dark corners at the light
Jennifer Pilch has authored a few chapbooks: Profil Perdu (Greying Ghost Press), Bulb-Setting (dancing girl press), Mother Color (Konundrum Engine Editions), and Sequoia Graffiti (forthcoming, Patasola Press). Her poems have appeared in such literary journals as Drunken Boat, Fence, Horse Less Review, and New American Writing. She is founding editor of the new fem/lit/art journal, La Vague: www.lavaguejournal.com.