Abridged between two parallel tracks, bare
feet sense cold iron vibrations that signal barreling
change
Through one tunnel
fresh screams rub marked walls, fluid
everywhere an aging body fills
a wide bed, sometimes two at once.
Alternately, you are alone
watching distorted skyline
through newest crystal accolade,
at the loge of
the world, tiny
in your palm and its closing signature.
Frequently ridden, gray dust rises from
each false choice,
each green-eyed dichotomy
to bar the light at the end.
Stop.
Go.
——
Terese Mason Pierre has had work published in The Collapsar, Acta Victoriana, Occulum, and The Spectatorial, among others. She is an associate editor of Young Voices Magazine and Lady Lazarus Journal, and is the poetry editor of Augur Magazine. Pierre lives in Toronto, Canada, with her family.