Here is a melancholy little love poem, in the Frank O’Hara mode, from the Victoria, British Columbia, poet, Slavic Studies student, Chernobyl expert, blogger, and shootist, Brianna Berbenuik, known affectionately in Numéro Cinq circles as AK Berbenuik for her exciting adventures with Glocks and AK47s. The author photograph is appropriately and unseasonably wintry; the poem reminds dg of many saying-goodbye-with-boxes moments in his wintry past.

dg

es muss sein? es muss nicht sein, i tell you

By Brianna Berbenuik

.

this is our great romance.

dreams

of sucking salt from your fingertips

feeling the pressure of the padded ends

on my tongue.

i collect moments with you

like you collect little sisters

like dolls, your girls are

worthless without their packaging—

easy to throw away,

and begin the search again

everything is half-way.

that night, i thought you might kiss me.

it was foolish, but i am sorry i didn’t.

maybe next time—

“i am stuck in traffic in a taxi cab

which is typical, and not just of modern life”

i am laying on your floor surrounded by

banker’s boxes, like architecture

everything in stacks; ready for relocation.

sometimes we keep ourselves this way.

—Brianna Berbenuik