Every Reflection Comes Back to One

After Amanda Deutch’s Everyone Comes back in Reflection, by Jen K Dick

You open
the bed
lift the chickens
put the house
under wraps

what does it mean, to be
quiet except
my teeth clacking

bright stars or piano
keys, coasters with pink “Dylan”
and “Allison” letters
remain after they devised
a plan against getting
married,

the caseof mirrors,
small treasure

means nothing
but
a train for two

wetness not provided
maybe
a fingertip
needs
someone else’s

my hand
tours and boundaries.

That is
all
a cross country
missing
the oncoming
acrostics

year of
possible substitutions--
the frame full
of music
claws

When what I contained
right
in her larynx
makes
me
very tired:

a day still
with energy

I suspect
I am always

Right now

Think
over it, the wavelets.

When was I
two people,
listening?

You promise to tell
me a mystery novel

Is that it?

factory collections
endtables
solid thread count

Everyone
comes
back
lifting cooking
dreaming

I would go into things.

In fact,
why don’t
I call
me back

Pace through the rooms of here

I’d love
to hear
my voice

See those chandeliers

the tinkle of
glass or crystal
raised
to what

am I
referring
myself to
this voice,

or echo?