The Couple

By KC TROMMER

 

Louise Bourgeois, MASS MoCA

Inside the bounded mercury,
we keep going. All circuits that close
make serpents of us, constrict
and envelop every tender corner until
         only a small portion
is distinct, our feet dangling like the end of a
sentence. We suspend ourselves
in a room full of light but take none in.

Though we might call it love,
         it’s not. It’s only the old narratives
winding through us, moving their casings
over us until we are a closed circuit of knowing.

What I want more than company
is air. Well, perhaps to be held lightly,
         
the faint feeling of you at my waist
as I turn open. But first, the task is to
command the molecules to take in more,
to occupy the sealed
space. There is no straight line to this
         evolution, no greater alchemy
         than adding oxygen, no end

 

 

KC Trommer is the author of the debut poetry collection We Call Them Beautiful and the chapbook The Hasp Tongue. She is the founder of the collaborative audio project QUEENSBOUND and assistant director of communications at NYU Gallatin. She lives in Jackson Heights, Queens, with her son.

[Purchase Issue 20 here.]

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

The Couple

Related Posts

February 2026 Poetry Feature: Fatimah Asghar and Shane Moran

FATIMAH ASGHAR
i cursed the frog / that found its way into / my house. murderous, i laid / poison for the ants. i threw / my moon in the trash. / when he cheated, i wished / him a hall of mirrors. / doomed to endless versions / of him. i prayed they’d undo / each other. & they did. i took / from the earth without permission."

Mountain, Stone

LENA KHALAF TUFFAHA
Do not name your daughters Shaymaa, / courage will march them / into the bullet path of dictators. / Do not name them Sundus, / the garden of paradise calls out to its marigolds, / gathers its green leaves up in its embrace. / Do not name your children Malak or Raneem, / angels want the companionship

Book cover of suddenly we

Poems from suddenly we by Evie Shockley

EVIE SHOCKLEY
one vote begets another / if you make a habit of it. / my mother started taking me / to the polls with her when i / was seven :: small, thrilled / to step in the booth, pull / the drab curtain hush-shut / behind us, & flip the levers / beside each name she pointed / to, the Xs clicking into view. / there, she called the shots / make some noise.