in wee hours

2 am
she flipped
the record over

in the lamplight
i saw brailleable
up and down
her wrists

tiny raised

where in
wee hours
i imagined

perch to dream

of cities
of hyacinths

Rob Plath, contrary to popular belief, is not yet under the jurisdiction of the worms. His latest book of poems Batter the Keyboard Like a Raptor Is Behind Yr Back is available from Laughing Ronin Press. See more of his work at: Read other articles by Rob.