All of my attempted love poems sound like elegies, and so I’ve given up trying to write them for my beloved, lest I give the wrong impression. Occasionally, however, one will come to me like a windfall, a speck of gold in the pan.
Sophie Klahr‘s poem, “50 Ways,” appears in our Spring 2012 issue, guest edited by Nick Flynn. “50 Ways” opens with these lines: I can turn the space of him over in my hands. See if it comes apart, if it’s permeable. Does it keep time, shrink, dissolve on flesh.