Jesse Miksic
A hand upon
my own leg
let’s script these obscure habits
as if I am
my own mistress
My open door
is a curtain, my open hand
a glamour,
a peacock mask,
a heavy fog
You can’t know
how I fold what folds me
in this blanket cavern
by this assumed name
bestowed at a moment of
passionate bewilderment
When you’ve reached
the end
of my long corridor,
nothing
nothing
but the void
the vacuum
Turns out
this corridor
waited well
for your departure
here too long
but gone now
Gone
***
Jesse Miksic is a graphic designer and writer living in Peekskill, New York. He spends his life writing poetry, nursing unfinished projects, and having adventures with his wonderful wife and daughter. Recent and forthcoming placements include Heron Tree, Drunk Monkeys, Liminality, Praxis Magazine Online, and others.