by Sarah Felder   I Valentines Day, North Philadelphia we dance until dawn; wild limbs lift like dust. I fall asleep on your floor again. I feel your bones through the wood; I lay like leather and don’t move for hours. II we sit parked by the river. you collect your thoughts; pick them off the ground like change and I’m on currency again, my body drops into the seat. III it rains heavily today. I lose my skin on the walk. I lean over to pick up a quarter. my watch hits the pavement  and breaks open. I forget the time. IV you are a mirror inside of my…

by Sarah Felder   Layers. Layering/folding over Gates of houses Following snow trails this is The first snow I’ve Seen that sticks to the Curves of Octobers ancient Lettering: throws, hurls itself At those hard to reach Creaks of hour to hour life; Divorce, inside of its magenta Creases a monotonous color like The underside of velvet Textile; the insecurities; Pull of feeling on the backside Of cheekbones (she tells me her Translucent tear ducts are blocked, They only flow every six months)   March is the month that cold lives In only in New England though Glows on our white faces Dry, skin, backs of our hands, White with…