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The Student News Site of Stony Brook University

The Statesman

The Student News Site of Stony Brook University

The Statesman

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    Poets’ Corner

    Where’s she going? The universe must move slowly… For tonight, the moon’s the same old brass-cold moon, above the ferry boat that takes her from me again into the empti- ness, across the unmapped sea that does not move.

    I imagine her again sitting, on a slow ferry that glides, her hands knitting, twisting soft yarn into something warm, both hands reaching and touching, in repeatable gestures, while her heart like the moon, barely noticeable, beats its little story.

    These are not questions but: can she feel me holding out my arms in the crisp November night? Can she feel my presence beside her, my hand on her thigh- preoccupied? I can see her dark hair and eyes, the blackness in those glances that keep

    coming back for me, her dream deepening, her knitting coming loose… unraveling…like the unmapped parts in me not touched in so long, those strange sweetnesses…the places where she’s gone.

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