ISSUE 21 : JANUARY-JUNE 2015
I once wrote, “I feel disappointed” & a mirror showed, “I feel culpable.”
I broke the mirror, which was also
to the inhabitant who lived a building across and one floor down, & whom I
It was like
Two flashes from the other window,
Dear xx. Two slashes.
An xx where no one can be exposed,
and an emptiness waiting to be filled—
Dear xx, and xx,
Some days I (you, too) don’t speak.
House filmed with floral, & thickets no one
Wake at midday w/ a thorn in the mouth, blood,
processions, power propped & discarded,
Patterns strange to the lens (sensitive),
to unravel. Weather weighted & crystalline.
Broken image in a bed of soft, broken belongings.
Can we crawl deep inside
Unmake—the idea of writing towards someone
Be a lash beneath
A thorn inside another’s mouth