Near the End of It

As I move through this evening,
I am reminded of you.

During the winter which beat
my skin raw, we tried to be someone

older. We attempted to speak like birds,
all sound in the early morning glow,

the pink dew and raw strawberries.
You became all hands,

you like a converging horizon, and
I was forced to dream of you—

I watched as we changed, and found
we had spoken like horses, all mane and eyes,

treading softly on what would be
paling sunlight.

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About mckenzielynntozan

McKenzie Lynn Tozan lives and writes in South Bend, Indiana, where she works as the Departmental Secretary of English and World Language Studies at Indiana University South Bend, and remains closely affiliated with 42 Miles Press, New Issues Poetry and Prose, and Wolfson Press. She previously received her MFA in Poetry from Western Michigan University, where she worked as the Layout and Design Editor for New Issues Poetry and Prose and as an Assistant Editor of Poetry for Third Coast. Her poems have appeared in Encore Magazine, Sleet Magazine, Rogue Agent, Thank You for Swallowing, Whale Road Review, The James Franco Review, The Birds We Piled Loosely, and Analecta; and her book reviews have appeared on her website and on The Rumpus. She lives with her husband, their daughter, and three cats. For more, visit www.mckenzielynntozan.com. View all posts by mckenzielynntozan

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