“Long Exposure: Aubade”
Aaron VanSteinberg
Only victims
of the night
let light re
fine regret
from la
mentation. A
gray dawn
boding, in
born to two,
a wry, reedy
contusion. I
find waves
awake our
he arts
in this way.
You can call
it longing,
if you like:
Castor di
agno sing
Pollux. Far
from Gem
in i
incest, sick
ness shrouds
insistency’s
young modus:
the mirrors.
Just like
the dawn, my
heart is
silently bra
king. Just
another word
we taught
someone to
say—and just
that once,
when the
sun came up.
[8/20-10/20]