Cathexis Northwest Press

© 2018 

Out. Into

Small hairs of your chest, normally

invisible like fishing line, alight from

the bedside lamp, bright. On end.

Reaching out like tethers to the unseen

unless the light is traced along

these lines. That reach out. Out. Into

the world, following their path to poke

holes for stars, to thread through

boughs, braid with branch and twig

to cup speckled eggs, tied deep past sod

and soil where the earth is dark, shiny-

wet, back to our slumbering pups

twined in their furs, and I feel the tickle

of the hair ends brush against mine.

Seán Griffin received his MFA in Creative Writing from Manhattanville College. His writing has appeared in The Southampton Review, Impossible Archetype, Cathexis Northwest Press, The Offbeat, and elsewhere. He teaches writing at Concordia College of New York, is an editor for Inkwell Literary Journal, and lives in New York with his three dogs.