In the Town, In the Forest

// Stephen Delaney

In a clearing in moonlight, the toadstools are blue. When they enter the ring
they know only one law: Save oneself. No dance but still magic. They sit
down, touch hips. Close eyes and forget curses, those mouths small and
slanted; forget eyes that stab and dip. Bodies bluing, they’ll unmake the
non-world till dawn.