I would have you walk backwards into each conversation,
your lips struggling their new shape, your eyes
diving over shoulders.
Your bedroom is an earthquake you don’t realize is happening.
Diving under a door frame or a desktop
doesn’t even occur to you.
When the world splits in two, it can surprise you
how everything doesn’t change all at once. The paper on
your walls bluer than columbines, the cedar wood
floor still stronger than both our weight
you can get new sheets but your pillows will remember me.
I would have you slide between the cracks.
Erik Rice is a Minnesota native and went to nationals in 2010 on the Lewis and Clark CUPSI Team. He is a co-founder of the Sparrow Ghost Collective in Portland, Oregon, and is currently working on a project that pits poetry and photography together.