Chloe Honum

Breakdown in April

Alone in my bedroom, I sob,

and the wardrobe steps forward,

like a coffin-mother, to embrace me.


Later, standing at the back door,

a coyote crosses my vision

on a wave of snow. This


is intimacy: once, in a supermarket,

you slid up behind me,

covered my eyes, and said, guess who?


Did I recognize your touch or your voice?

I sleep with the windows open

and the rain climbs into my bed


like a lover, naked beneath the quilt.

I could roll over and wrap

my arms around the rain.



“Breakdown in April” first appeared in Two Peach, Issue 2, February 2016.