Hilary Clark - revenant 2

flickering, we live uncalendared.                        .
Jennifer Moxley, “Underlying Assumptions”

Quivering, we live as if without limits
At intervals, we feel unbound to our feet

Mouthing words, we are carried by tides, great waves
whooshing

Periodically, we walk the beach unaware of the kelp and flotsam, clouds of glory flapping along behind

Between helium and neon we return, our faces painted green and orange—
in a gas balloon, jettisoning our precious books

On the back of a whale, chasing schools of oolichan, we dive

On summer evenings—in the moments before lights-off—we disappear, small girls reading Babar and Madeline, exploring desert islands, teasing tigers in the zoo

Writing, distractible we err, one ear always to the humid night, to crickets and thunder—

Writing, we are unselved, unsealed, moths flying out of a book, staining the pages with light-sensitive ink

Between pages we shimmer, unnoticed by thick-fingered readers breathing
with open mouths

Among will-o’-the-wisps we are unparalleled, our flight paths colliding in the library

Crushed yet still ticking, we are uncovered in a copy of Hamlet found at a garage
sale, we beetle over ramparts, spook the night watch

Between lightning bolts we return in mirrors, we return—

                                                                             in accidental spills (hot tea),
in missing disks, erasers, earrings, names—in glances, tics and winks, the upsurge
of summer storms—
                        in hunger for sugar, aching teeth—hunger as if
without limit