Stefania Heim

The cobbled street behind me and its own impossible bridge.

Amphibian night comes on. What I fear is transformation.


They walk through the night as though it isn’t closing in on us.

I had meant to catch the slant of dimming light, to keep track 


While it fell and then feel reckless. Panic at the fish market.

Panic at the intersection of canal and street. I am more romantic 


Than they are. And more scared. In my long narrow room,

I keep my head near the heart. This hotel, a wet night that extends.