Flowers from the Faucet at Midnight - A Poem

by Dana Jerman

Flowers from the Faucet at Midnight—

Let’s sit at the wide window and watch the city below.

Lights crawling thru dusk over dark while you tell me

about a time you fell in love and got hurt. Hurt bad.

Let’s hide away in your low voice and the long view.

High off the earth in a room we’ll never again see.

Near muted TV and silent burning lamps a hallway

and a room away. Close as velvet heartbeats.

You say something you’ve never said aloud before

and in so doing you give the sharp little moon permission

to come on like a switch as you finish your drink.

Let’s be intimate as unplayed music. The volume

of an ice cube shifting in the glass is the same

as an ambulance from twenty-two stories.

Let’s recalibrate…

I’m nobody and you’re the anybody you’ve always

wanted to be. As long as we’re warm silhouettes in this

picture we have a piece of everything all to ourselves.

Let’s cradle our namelessness in the throbbing dark.

Observing the starry chaos moving below like a shaken jar

filled with resin and glitter. Time is less than nothing.

Dreams are tarnished yesterdays dismantled. 


Let me hear you say it all- your shadow smirking

as you confess and forget. Let me drink your lost

minutes nearby to your body in this hidden dim.

Exposed and redeemed like a promise, like a ticket.

We are also broken glints off the crashing city.

Fragrant blossoms from the tap at midnight.

Wet magnets in an electric impossible world.


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The Subjectivity of Historical Revisionism