Facts about Snakes & Hearts, a 2015 poetry chapbook by Flower Conroy

Déjà Vu

Now when I revisit it, it is the lavender range where mountain
finally breaks into sky & the trees’ violet edge beginning
them & not the matter in between
The blackberry vines’ scratches: closeness whorled into close & close
coiled into lose but clover elapsed into cover
The patch of (what was its informal name again?) the patch like a hair of
the wool
Button down shirt: on the line & white & blue
Not just the grass but the chaos of cut grass splattering my ankles
& calves, promise me, the acres, the sweetspot you lie upon
How the apple filled my mouth with blare
Hand not lifting—a second chance not to, to mean the opposite
(sometimes the language that slips its slip off in your mouth worries
me you don’t know what century you belong to)—the face at the jaw
Lake wrapped in wax paper
Axes & vines, the thorns a tangle of opening
My whalebone desire to revise when I claimed there is no pleasing into
sleeves brushing, cuffs touching, only that
When I sipped from your cup for the going back in time to where
your mouth & all its parts alluded
Glimpsed along the cemetery, the ferns’ leaves scorched brittle lace
On a branch a goldfinch flexing against the sunlight—vanishes—
into thicket, stem shaken


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