MORNING SONG
at first I thought
this is fun
then I thought
I’m going to die
in the dream
where I killed a man
in our driveway
because he first
killed you lover
with the same gun
I pointed at his head
and pulled the trigger
too instinctively
even in my sleep
but I woke next to you
not panicked or sorry
but as if I’d come back
home to myself
and later on my walk
to work I get run over
by car shadows
some sort of payback
but it’s not real
the way stopping to watch
paramedics pull a body
from the old folks’ home
on the corner is real
and I think how
impossibly tender
it must feel to be so
close to the noise
and heat of being—
as close as I to you
this morning—the being
as it leaves the body
perhaps slowly or all at once
Eloisa Amezcua is an Arizona native. Her poetry and translations are published or forthcoming from Poetry Magazine, The Journal, Cherry Tree, and others. She is the author of the chapbooks On Not Screaming (Horse Less Press) and Symptoms of Teething, winner of the 2016 Vella Chapbook Prize from Paper Nautilus Press. Eloisa is the founder/editor of The Shallow Ends: A Journal of Poetry. You can find her at www.eloisaamezcua.com.