In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

When I used to believe in signs: the ocean leaving something brittle and unbroken on the sand for me to find, or the foghorn I heard from my dark bedroom after you told me to listen hazy mornings before dawn, that low moan guiding minor vessels away from craggy harm. If there were guarantees in love, then yes, I would follow you to NewYork City, Puerto Rico, a place of birth, yours or mine. I used to believe in tides pulling bodies toward unknown purples and deep, deep greens—that a dream about blue whales signified desire, terrifying and good, rising in the body after a decade-long fight. Back then I would track a dragonfly’s crooked path across an August-drought field,  Dumesnil PGS:Layout 1 4/28/09 12:32 PM Page 67 expecting cattails and water to emerge from the earth, and they would.When I believed in signs, a coyote pawing at dry brush, her tail a flag among weeds, told me I should look for you, and a black-tailed deer holding my gaze meant: if I could find you, you would stay.  Dumesnil PGS:Layout 1 4/28/09 12:32 PM Page 68 ...

Share