ECHO’S BODY

Echo still had a body then, she was not only a voice. — Ovid

day casts spiny certainties
into corners and it’s clear
that I am or you are not
what the tree limbs predicted
in July-suspended air green and
promising storm violently
spectacular hot and furious
wind winding through houses
believe me I watched their secrets
catch in glow and tangle those
second-story nights headlights fell
into windows and there were horizons
in every dark direction alone at once
we waver and guess we reach across
across we know the secrets aren’t
the interesting part the only part
tonight will be winter and we may
go under we may yet drown and here
in possibility’s dim and quavering
strike I would peel skin from knuckle
and wrist I would give jawbone
or eyelid or tongue even now
the body articulates tremble and gasp
even now your hands drop through me