‘Site of Private Architectural Interest’ by Dean Browne

Because you’re in too close and bare
your skin by mine till I

have only the silliest inkling
of what ache means,

let me show you the one landmark
I know to match the words

my mouth, too mean to utter them,
too little tries –

a lighthouse on the coast of nowhere
if not Hy-Brasil, Never-Never.

‘Depth before height’, an architect inked in
above the blueprint. Or might have.

You move in front while the sun climbs
level with the coarse white wick

of the lighthouse, or melts
down west like a ring on the finger.

From issue #2: spring/summer 2016

About the Author
Dean Browne was born in 1994. He won the 2011 Cuisle National Poetry Competition, and his poems have appeared in The SHOp, The Penny Dreadful, Poetry Chicago, Southword and elsewhere. He was nominated by Crannóg magazine for a Pushcart Prize in 2015, and read in the Introductions series for the Cork International Poetry Festival 2016.