by Elana Wolff

Empty & bright as empire—
whole lives eager to be dreamed here,

stepped into on oak parquet,
front-lit by picture windows—

unshuttered, facing east:
regions of command & magic, never a timorous wish.

Towers craning up & up,
hanging gardens,

circular pools—


When you said sweet, I heard bees
& smelled the yellow nectar.

Love is loopy like that: like punching Sun,
getting drubbed, blessing the light

that blinds.

— from Juniper Volume 3, Issue 1