Category Archives: David Trinidad

To Arielle and the Moon, David Trinidad

To Arielle and the Moon The night reduced to a siren, a sigh: Beautiful boy on the treadmill Glimpsed sweating through sweating glass— My new moon. Sylvia’s moon: a smiling skull Snagged in witchy branches; fossil Brushed free of blackest … Continue reading

Posted in David Trinidad, Edmund Dulac, poetry | 1 Comment