Entombed inkwells, dragonkind on a paper hoard, 
vintages recherché, submerged in a cellar’s dusty dunes. 
Potent words stoppered and ardent tears corked, 
sterile but kind environments swathed in neoprene  
and cellophane—dreaming of feather, leather, and skin. 
A studio apartment shared by comfort and anxiety: 
Schrodinger’s dopamine.  

Living with you is like hoping in the style of Sisyphus,  
forever swimming through the Big Empty. I become  
a celestial jellyfish in a galaxy of cobwebs and dying lights with  
an uncashed favor, depreciated currency with time’s inflation, 
The good crystal in an armoire Alcatraz of oak and beveled glass. 
A wedding bouquet of heavy rain, honeyed hatred and wasabi almonds. 
Dandelion hands over a roaring campfire, too afraid to touch 
Your house-of-cards heart and anvil of expectations— 
with a tender hammer whiteknuckled in your hateful fingers. 

Stephen Fodroczi is a part-time jazz singer and full-time jazz listener. Stephen is also a doctoral candidate at Cornell, studying Ancient Greek poetry and literature. This is his first publication.