Two Acts
By Rachael R., Dacula, GA
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act one
like a great white crane
she stood on one foot among the ovid and the shakespeare
with her daffodil white blond head cocked at a perfectly calculated right angle
frozen burning t.s. eliot and e.e. cummings
to the back of her eyes
her hand reaches deep into the stream
and she fishes out a wet, sparkling, flipping anthology of walt whitman and devours it
with painful honesty
act two
i hold myself at night.
naked.
i bury ice cubes and thaw them in hot,
breathing flesh hold myself like mother holds pearl oyster
keeps a small, white child inmate within salty loins;
i love myself more than any lover could.
appreciate me more than anybody appreciates me
i hold myself, afraid,
keeping rising-falling-inhaling-exhaling rib cage together
and breasts and arms, fingers and toes and head;
tendons and vessels and lungs and heart together
i hold them together
stronger than paper clips and duct tape are lonely fingers
holding up a card house in a hurricane
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