Winter 2014 - Vol. 11, Issue 1

"Your Hands"

 

My mind is starless and

As blank as a white wall.

The moon feigns white

Brightness and love.

I cannot trust it.

 

It drags the dregs

Of the sea behind it like

Dark amputations.

 

All night I have been

Dreaming of war.

I awake nervous and

Indifferent.

 

Give me your hands,

Tender as they are.

 

 

"Smile"

 

My smile fell into the garden of vegetables.

It is of no use.

I did not retrieve it like a dog –

now I look like everyone else –

think of it as

a gift to be so ordinary and following

in a footfall of echoes.

I am

mooing now and following the herd. How fine it is to be as dumb as a

mirror.