Give me the rider
on a black horse,
offering a marker

of all that is to come
in the city neoning
its brand behind

your eyes, a mercenary
apparition. He is
looking for a way out

of rain beating
pavement, bruised blue
by the same light unfolded

against his cheekbone,
memory of a hand⸺
what is left but consequences

for the touch of a time
without rules? When
the hands of clocks tick

down on what tendernesses
we’re still allowed, give me the man
who wants to remember.

Taylor Brunson is a poet living in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Her work has recently been featured in Mineral Lit Mag, Non.Plus Lit, and The Daily Drunk Mag. She serves as an assistant poetry editor for Four Way Review and assistant nonfiction editor for Nashville Review. Taylor can be found on Twitter, @taylor_thefox.