the boy had his face
turned off: telling him
was a mistake. and yet,
you don’t know
until you try. isn’t that
the lie, sold in films
the ghibli boy the anime
girl, pale faces like
caterpillar heads,
leaned neatly against windows,
shaking fields. the girl,
she confesses: the sky goes
pink, the moon soft
lucid round.
the boy, of course,
says yes.
he talks to her only
out of necessity, he is not
a monster.
poem: obsessions
the last pavilion 