Dream-Clung, Gone by Lauren Russell

Dream-Clung, Gone

 

Undertow of dive bar juke unboxed

Driving past a rust-red door unjambed

Coin-operated groove side-shimmies, unflung

A seamlessly upholstered stool’s unwound

 

Once I fell in love with an Absence. It outgrew the apartment and wouldn’t take off its clothes. After we moved it turned taut and slinky, hid in shadows or slid provo-catively beneath my coat. Three winters now and the Absence is restless. It’s blown across the river, arrives late when it meets me for beer. The Absence is singing:

 

This is the song of a dawned dance

This is the dance of a dusk-drawn song

This is the fall of a moaned trance

This is the clang of a dream-clung gong