Issue Forty - Summer 2022

Nightcall

By Rose Mary Boehm

when night presses down
and muffles all sound
when your wings are weary
and you would be chained
				call me

when the chirpy voices
of girls under streetlights
mute slowly in distended mist
eyes drowned by indifference
				I’ll be waiting

when the wavelets stop lapping
and the fish go deep
when you don’t ask
because you no longer want to know
				I’ll have the answers

when you drown in unmadeness
spooked by hyaline skin 
lost in amorphous potential
greeting your everywhereanytime
				I’ll unfold with you

Copyright Boehm 2022