If the crushed bones
of your smalltown face weren’t enough,
and it’s not enough that
these mountains are the bodies of buried gods
you never knew the names of—
I tell you I wish you could feel your rhythm
but it wouldn’t be enough
to take the pleading from your eyes—
you could see but the mirror isn’t enough
nor the same.
Sleep is not enough
and love has never been enough,
the mountain gods say as they guard
your dreams if you would ever close your eyes.
Trenton Pollard studied poetry at North Carolina State University and Bennington College. Originally from Michigan, he has worked as a welder, graphic designer, massage therapist, and political organizer. His poems can be found in Verdad, Codex Journal, Wilde Magazine, and Assaracus.