Consider it hung,
Consider it hanged.
The day concluding immensely
Across the sky, strafed by white
Bandages. A blanket
Abstraction—diphthong
At its center—one lettered stage
Right; stage left. Stars’ll be made
To rise up later: post-nude
Shines on a baby blank
Page. Their lit lungs
Alight, each blued-up
Flame’s a rise: each gassed
-out flame’s descendant.
Susan Comninos’s poetry has most recently appeared or is forthcoming in the Harvard Review Online, Rattle, Subtropics, The Common, Southern Humanities Review and Prairie Schooner.