Paige Melin is a poet, editor, and feminist from Buffalo, NY. She is the author of the book of poetry Puddles of an Open (BlazeVOX, 2016) and the micro chapbookMTL/BFL//ÉTÉ/QUINZE (Buffalo Ochre Papers, 2016). She co-founded and edits steel bellow: a purely buffalo literary magazine, served as an editorial advisor for My Next Heart: New Buffalo Poetry (Blazevox, 2017), and has worked at the SUNY Buffalo Poetry & Rare Books Collection and the National Poetry Foundation. Follow her @paige_melin.

1 poem by Paige Melin

mushroom


 

Is it crazy if I just sit here & stare at the screen

until I see you’ve

started typing?

 

  I’ll write this instead.

 

All my dreams lately

are about buildings

 

& your ghost is in all of them –

 

or your future,

I can’t tell which.

 

There are high ceilings &

possibilities

 

of spaces,

 

like it matters.

 

I wake up into this world

which feels less so

 

like life &

more so

 

like dreaming –

 

is it crazy if I say I think I’m

coming down with that neurosis where

you can’t distinguish dreams

from reality?

 

You

are my dream

for so long

& now –

 

I’m waiting

 

for the circles

 

& the drift of this

 

conversation.

 

We’re not

 

at emoji level yet but

I imagine your eyes

 

when you’re reading my words

 

& that

seems close enough for now.