Sometimes two people

come together with their bodies

and it is so like the way

they feel inside

and the first person holds out

an apple to the second

and the second holds out

an oar to the first

and they float away smiling

using neither.

 

Sometimes something

will burst between them

like a star or something

a layman can’t name

something far away

in space that becomes

less and more of itself bursting

apart in that lack of gravity

having all of its pieces

nearby and whole.

Laurin Macios

Laurin Becker Macios was born in Miami, Florida and raised just short of everywhere. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing, Poetry from the University of New Hampshire where she taught on fellowship for three years, and she is the Program Director of the Poetry Society of America after several years as Program Director of Mass Poetry. Her work appears in Salamander, Boxcar Poetry Review, [PANK], The Pinch, and elsewhere. A finalist for the 2014 Boston Review/92 Y Unterberg Poetry Center "Discovery Prize," she lives in NYC and can be found at laurinbeckermacios.com.

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