Piglet's Eye

I saw it go down, the goose dawn.
I wasn’t supposed to. See it all spread
on the lawn. I touch you on your soaking piglet’s eye.
I have been trying to sync. I press playfully. Is it good?
Ages ago I grew tender prongs from my salivary glands. Sincerely,
I was agog. I’ve been shaving my shadow down
since. The separation between ground and I
is now nearly gone in the sun’s guzzle.
In the spirit of disclosure, I saw you
swaddled in goose down. I was with you,
I saw you foam loud,
combing moans inches from sound.

Evan Williams is a Chicago-based writer. Their work can be read in Denver Quarterly, DIAGRAM, SOLID STATE, or at tallmansgarden.com.