August
for Laura Mattingly
“there are so many ways to be held prisoner” -Anne Carson
ribbons of sun
dusky breath over this horizon
shimmering outlines of branches
screened like a mid-day suffering
each breath, reckoned
throats of ash, throats of wander
distant shade a sprinkling
photographs of nude bodies in black
and white, a scrolling of sex
at the fingertip
tipping displays to match grain
to groove, a warren for memory
at the hardest edge: have you gone
blurry gone
unnoticed
scalded faces lap up injustice
what choice do any of us have?
there’s only one path to disclosure
one sure foot graced for escape
we turn over ancient metaphors
a type of joy we solder: why does love
happen? we keep asking
the silent hours
8.17.13
Megan Burns
No comments:
Post a Comment