(I am posting this poem from the series Falling Bodies at the request of Rachel Tobes. I thought I had lost it in the ether, but it finally surfaced. I guess this is appropriate for a poem based on accidental discoveries.)

MORE THAN CORDUROY

you know, about corduroy,

about it not being accidental,

not like post-it notes, assumptions and electricity,

and about how the push-pull

of such a two-way fuzziness

could come between two people

with so little surface tension.

And maybe you were right,

you know, about this other thing—

this escalating dance,

this shattered calm, and how,

more than corduroy,

it makes my fingers move

in trancelike patterns,

makes me bite my lip,

and giggle,

and cry.