“Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra”

Dionne Charlet

I’ve siphoned quarries of amygdala to whet the parch of white from a faux leather couch binging through Star Trek and lost arks in a room we just painted Behr Interlude.

I might be bordered on the lop side but there are slick traces of you metamorphosing from the pancake dreamer of treachery under the sink plotting with a whisk to sprint from the pantry with a jar of onions fractured at the base and dripping scent to extract the Well of Souls from tear ducts.

Quick, swipe a dish towel to wipe my eyes and yours together juice and spit. I imagine the other side of me and where she might reflect on this evacuation plan…

upward like a cannon erected — moonstruck. Advances slink through space/time, woken with words from a dream of bobbleheads.

All that there is in such a study contributes to my endeavor to wreak my bellied freedom where crevices sink as crevices do when a couch is bound in Naugahyde, aliens battle for metaphor and New Orleans can gush into space.

Ladowich Magazine is available in the Apple Newsstand — https://t.co/bhbBwDr0F9 — offering just enough poetry and one longread a month. This poem will appear in issue seven, arriving before the new year.

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