by Marissa Bell Toffoli.
–For Raphael
A braid unwinds,
turns into a hand.
I cannot reach the sky.
All your ideas fall apart.
I was in the dark.
I was thinking
what a beautiful day it was
that you’re going to find
the dawn for me.
When the doors were all closed,
my heart banged.
Where are our feelings?
I take apart the alphabet.
I want to cut letters all the time.
That’s the trouble,
my blue car is blue.
I dreamed of beauty.
The lawnmower dreamed
of floating in the water.
We’re all friends,
but we’re different textures.
The wind of the dawn
is a long way off.
The moon is coming home to us.
It’s so big it’s like a drum.
I’m teaching you
how to make an oubliette.
I’ll hold the roof
of your work
in my pocket.