Issue Five

Autumn 2012

 

Comma


When I look at the sky and say shiver
I mean the piece that broke off,
the little brittle thing against
the slope of you, your face and
a good measure of light.

When I see you there, I feel like an incendiary,
or a housewife, the missing match,
that sudden gladiola on the same walk home,

Or more maybe, a comma, that half curl
of breath between two places, a pause
in flat white air, the separation,
the substitution —

When you said you barely knew me,
I blamed the gin, the cut glass reflecting
the gin, the reflection of the cut glass
in the gin.

__________________________

Cindy Carlson

 

 

peacock fractal