You and I wade into the river. 
It is winter. 
We are wearing mittens. 

The moon reflects on the water. 
We stare at this reflection— never at each other. 
Holding hands, our hands aren’t really touching.

An attempt to circumnavigate my melancholy fixation 
over the inevitable spaces between our molecules,
the gaps between our bodies:

we stand still like flamingos in the water all night, 
one leg lifted, 
the other foot unwebbed, and soggy. 

Aurora Bones earned both an MA in Creative Writing and also an MFA specializing in poetry. Her thesis project from the latter focused on examining the relationship between our internal and external worlds; she is fascinated with the complex ways in which the body acts as both a bridge and also a barrier to all that is outside of it. She currently teaches English full-time at a University in Illinois. Her poetry can be found in various print and online publications, including Anti-Heroin Chic and 2River.