aperture

watching you open your mouth
to the rain that drops
from the blue sky
as sunlight
celebrates your moist face
and the hollow of your belly fills
with what makes us grow
never tasting the light

i remember you
stretched out in the
pillow snow
as if winter was
just a dress you wore

i hung above
from a window
my anxious pupils
piercing a narrow of curtains

reaching out my hand to work
a stubborn lock and
having difficulty defining
the reason i remained
quiet and with thirst
watching you open your mouth



Dan Sicoli writes about hope and the fallout that comes from offering it up. He is the author of two poetry chapbooks from Pudding House Publications (Columbus Ohio), Pagan Supper and the allegories. In addition to co-founding and co-editing the literary press and magazine Slipstream, his work has appeared in numerous litmags, e-zines, anthologies, and poetry audio recordings including Chiron Review, ONTHEBUS, Quercus Review, Barbaric Yawp, Dog River Review, Bathtub Gin, 2River, and Nerve Cowboy. He has been twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize.