Day

by Chase Dearinger

They weld the rim

of morning

to the world. 

And from within:

Two stags rut 

in a mossy wood. 

White tennis shoes

dangle 

from a crooked electric line. 

A lover rests

her face 

on the gooseflesh 

of her wife’s stomach. 

But before a pattern 

can be found, 

the night rips

away the day

and the stars shock us,

cold and brilliant.