Recent Work By Rachel Bunting

There is nothing but air between us. The night outside
is soft and cool as we hum along city streets. Nothing

but air. This is a lie. The air holds so much we cannot
touch: heat, unfallen rain. Scent of grass, the dream

I spoke aloud last night. This is how I learn what ruins
are in me – their hands on my windpipe, my best online casino ankles.