Dream sequence for birds

We will watch him like a flock
of birds. Snow geese, guided
by topography, will not use

their eyes. Instead, they will use
their mouths. So many songs.
There will never be enough of us

to fill a room. We remind ourselves
of geese flying south. I want to die
or don't. I want to die knowing more

than the words stop, no. What kind
of gods are these. There is something
about not knowing. We will jump

into oceans, rivers. The pond with all
the geese. We met in an alleyway
& I bled from my face, my mouth.

Pretend that I am not talking to you
or about you. Stop, no. I am only here
to apologize. I have only ever been here

to apologize. A pause. I bruised myself
on your hands & I am sorry. Stop, no.

Hollow places. I'll fall into a bird
& become it. I'll fall out of some nest.

Talin Tahajian grew up near Boston. Her poetry has appeared in Salt Hill Journal, Indiana Review, Kenyon Review Online, Best New Poets 2014, Columbia Poetry Review, DIAGRAM, Washington Square Review, and on Verse Daily. She serves as a poetry editor for The Adroit Journal, and recently co-edited Poets on Growth (Math Paper Press, 2015). She is currently an undergraduate student at the University of Cambridge, where she studies English literature and attempts to assimilate. She talks @talinout. (talintahajian.com)

Boxcar Poetry Review - ISSN 1931-1761