Drawing

I’ve arrived at five images 

of the same scene in ink. 

There are two forms, one 

hovering in the upper left

corner of the page, another 

on the bottom right, often 

recumbent. With their not touching 

the space between takes on a weight—

one imagines an integration 

of the two—only figure and ground, only 

ink and that pure portion 

of the present in which lovers float. 

I have my titles (“Encounter,” “Allegory,” 

“Transference,” “Procedure,” “Moment”) 

scrawled in loose script 

on index cards pinned beneath 

the images. I take a step 

away from the wall, looking 

for catches or correspondences, 

before shuffling the cards.