Mice in the Beams

Abstract

Mice in the Beams Kaily Dorfman (bio) I let you try again, but you still can’t get it right,tie a true-love knot instead. Mise en abyme, I say, lookingdown the windowpane. I pinch two tails together tight. You said I made the word up. Like mice squirmingwhen caught—less free than he’d thought. Scheherazadesnagged by her hair. The sultan leaning in, not ticklish in the salt-draped air, the curl of his fingers,the hour they spent untangling his net late one nightafter she’s told him the fisherman’s name, his wife’s. You confessed you’d heard that one before. Beforeher first night. In the sultan’s dawn-draped room, before.But not her name. And so I was halfway through again like the time you knew the story, how Scheherazadeclaimed mice nest in her ceiling beams.In your accent you say it again, twice as bad before I can start laughing. When I correct youlike an American, you try to tell me what it is.Mise en abyme, you say, pronouncing the French. ________ Mise en abyme, you say, pronouncing the Frenchlike an American, and try to tell me what it isbefore I can start laughing. When I correct your accent you say it again, twice as bad and [End Page 29] claiming mice nest in the ceiling beams.Like the time you knew the story of Scheherazade but not her name, and so I was halfway throughher first night in the sultan’s dawn-draped room beforeyou confessed you’d heard that one before. Before she’s told him the fisherman’s name, his wife’s,the hour they spent untangling his net late one nightin the ticklish salt-draped air, the curl his fingers snagged on in her hair. The sultan leaning in, notquite caught, less free than he’d thought. Scheherazade,you said, like I made the word up. Mice squirming down the windowpane. I pinch two tails together tight,then tie a true-love knot. Mise en abyme, I sayand let you try again. You still can’t get it right. [End Page 30] Kaily Dorfman KAILY DORFMAN was born and raised in Santa Cruz, California, and completed her MFA in poetry at UC Irvine. She is currently a doctoral student in creative writing at the University of Denver. Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and has been published or is forthcoming in journals including Ibbetson Street, The Scrivener Creative Review, Strange Horizons, The Swamp, and Foothill Poetry Journal, where she was a finalist for the 2020 Editor’s Prize. Fairy tales are stories about impossibilities made possible. I don’t think I’ve ever written a poem that wasn’t wrestling with the reality of impossible things, in one way or another, and so in that sense, perhaps I’ve never written a poem that wasn’t a fairy tale. Copyright © 2022 Wayne State University Press, Leonard N. Simons Building