Caitlin Annette Johnson

As Long as You Believe In Miracles

PUBLISHED IN FOLIO 2023: VOL. 38.

As long as you believe in miracles,
you will craft clever little animals
out of paper that came from a tree
that once touched hands with god.
Then you toss them into the trash
half filled with yesterday’s lunch.

You said we see ourselves in the moon
always in orbit of what is possible
always spinning to some soft hum
of the universe making itself bigger.
How is this not magical? The curve
of your bare foot, the stars at dusk.

I’d miss you but you’re always here.
I’d kiss you but your mouth is open,
and I’ve never touched your tongue.
I don’t know why I’m telling you this,
but I think often of the way you cry
only when you’re alone, in the dark.

On the horizon, our dreams erect
themselves as awful imitations
of each other, like skyscrapers
in a funhouse mirror. Strange, hard,
and impossible. And yet we set out
every morning, slouching for home.