from Vagaries
Jennifer Dawson
Fading From View
She walked down the stairs then floated out the front door
fading from view. She was the dream sequence, the sequestered, unfaltering.
It was in the undercurrent. Certain inalienable rights, long forgotten. Once here, once gone.
Become incomprehensible. If you can’t be seen, can’t be understood, perhaps the world becomes clearer. A tornado in water disappears as it dissolves.
Dear Anna, your distance makes you close yet I do not hear you. Cannot feel you near me. I falter.
When I have finally disappeared I can try driving the cliffs. When the sun comes out I will have burned up.
Along the Flawless Verge*
the length of lost sleep grows
so stretches the distance
between lonely hillocks
in disparate dreams
awaiting communion, mutual desires
to settle the blazing
vacancies
in the dimness,
just light
the ha! ha!
of an awaiting crow
*“Flawless Verge” is a phrase borrowed from Virginia Woolf’s The Waves. London: Vintage Books, 2004, p. 176.
Jennifer Dawson is the author of Vagaries (2018), a self-released collection of poetry and prose. She is a Portland, Oregon native. She has previously done work in film, and was an interviewer, writer, and the copy editor for About Face Magazine for three years. Jennifer Dawson is online at facebook.com/JenniferMarieDawson.
