Tell me how

It is no visible spirit which wails
Through this long hour
Porcupining mirrors into specters
Enamored with mild radiation
From pooled lavender sachet puss
Passing as passion yet again
Sickened when too soon signs
Do no more than pass on the regards
Of meagre Sangiovese instants blushed
Beneath a hare moon’s spoor
Waxed beyond deepest infatuation
Once untroubled by binary inspiral waves
That circle then emblaze all previous
Eyes seeded inside two tongues

Anneysa Gaille grew up along the banks of Buffalo Bayou in Houston, Texas. In 2018 her chapbook, No Such Thing As, was published by the Center for the Study of Gender and Sexuality at the University of Chicago. Gaille worked on the Brooklyn Review from 2019 to 2021, serving as the Visual Arts and Poetry editor. She recently received her Poetry MFA from Brooklyn College, where she is an adjunct lecturer in the English Department.