Upon Learning Otters Hold Hands While They Sleep
by Enikő Deptuch Vághy
I also fear waking
to loss. I hold my lover
as he dreams, remember
the times I’ve drifted
into new lives, sleeping
in the same bed with other people,
how I’ve woken beside them
or alone, knowing I have traveled
so far they will never find me again.
Once, after a fight with a different man,
I reached for his hand in our dark room,
felt a fist. I pushed it open, let his fingers close
around mine. I thought this would keep
me beside him forever. I didn’t know
I’d found a new way to measure distance.
My lover presses into me like a vow.
I breathe the scent of his neck, pray
we wake in the same waters.
The first time he slept over, we clung
to each other, his heartbeat pounding
against mine as if to awaken it.
When he turned from me, I feared him
pulled by another current, his desire receding
with his touch. The next morning, I found myself
back in his arms, his pulse a constant swim stroke
keeping us afloat.
Enikő Deptuch Vághy is a poet, artist, and editor. She is currently a PhD candidate in the Program for Writers at the University of Illinois at Chicago. Additionally, she is the Founding EIC of the literary and arts journal Lover’s Eye Press. You can find her at @persepheni88 on Instagram.