It’s fitting that I sit
in the dark. I think this
and it’s true, though it’s too much

like being alone.
I should be with my wife
with the lights on

watching her fall
asleep. That’s when she thinks
she can smell my intent.

After we make love
she reaches over in the darkness
and touches the corner of my eye

to see if I’m sad,
then my mouth
to see if I’m angry. Her finger

a roaming candle
lighting the lost participants’
secret features.

Jeffrey Schneider

JLSchneider is a carpenter and an adjunct professor of English at a small community college in upstate New York. Winner of the 2015 Prism Review Poetry Contest, his poetry has also appeared in Crazy River, The Taos Review, The Rhode Island Review, Slippery Elm, and Rolling Stone, among others. His poetry collection It’s Strange Here was recently published by Vine Leaves Press.