Entombed inkwells, dragonkind on a paper hoard,
vintages recherché, submerged in a cellar’s dusty dunes.
Potent words stoppered and ardent tears corked,
sterile but kind environments swathed in neoprene
and cellophane—dreaming of feather, leather, and skin.
A studio apartment shared by comfort and anxiety:
Schrodinger’s dopamine.
Living with you is like hoping in the style of Sisyphus,
forever swimming through the Big Empty. I become
a celestial jellyfish in a galaxy of cobwebs and dying lights with
an uncashed favor, depreciated currency with time’s inflation,
The good crystal in an armoire Alcatraz of oak and beveled glass.
A wedding bouquet of heavy rain, honeyed hatred and wasabi almonds.
Dandelion hands over a roaring campfire, too afraid to touch
Your house-of-cards heart and anvil of expectations—
with a tender hammer whiteknuckled in your hateful fingers.
Stephen Fodroczi is a part-time jazz singer and full-time jazz listener. Stephen is also a doctoral candidate at Cornell, studying Ancient Greek poetry and literature. This is his first publication.