Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Issue Thirty-eight
Summer 2015
 
THE SKY LIT UP
Julie Rouse

I woke before you and remembered
how when I was young I thought fireflies
ghosts trailing their distant cool
fire in the fields our car parted like the sea
or leaves of a book. I traveled that way
for years. I can’t lie and say I don’t
still believe when they flash their sexual
lanterns. I also used to point a flashlight
into the sky and flick it
on and off, on and off, signaling what
I don’t know but it must have been dangerous
to play with the cosmos like that.
Anything with kind dark eyes may turn
attention towards you and suddenly space,
once a blueblack sleeping bag, now an asphalt
parking lot your soft body is laced against.

About Julie Rouse

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