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Wax Poetic
Alina G., South Africa

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By Noelle B., Tenafly, NJ

     You speak to me
like the stroke
of a watercolor cottontail
cloud; speak
like a hummingbird’s ruby
throat as she resides
on the rim of a nectar
vase. The wings
on your words
in the vein of Hermes;
a bridge between what lingers
inside and what’s loose
on your lips. Your words -
I turn and twist
like the salted spiral
in a city street vendor’s
hand. Like the mind
of a murderer, like the
crumbling-walled labyrinth,
like the channel of Hercules.
Like a dripping dishrag,
I take your airborne
words in my coiled fingers
and wring.




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