abigail-ellaWhisper

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Ceci n’est pas une pomme*After Magritte* / Maybe that man in the painting, / Grey, upright, unfeeling,
20
Sep 8, 2016
In your car down the highway with the windows downFlying high our years, our senses of Self, stitched with dermis, / are a fabric of synapses— electric, / flapping in the August wind like our shirts and the loose
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Sep 8, 2016
KatieI used to know you through more than our fiber optic nothings: / As wild hair and bloody knees, a moleskin and a fountain pen, / A teeming scowl and harrowing slur of a laugh, seeing every word spoken.
10
Jul 27, 2015
MoiraeSome might say that the three sisters / weaving the threads of our existence / measuring out our tribulations
12
Jun 5, 2015
MarchKeep in mind that when Russula, / humble, dewy and smelling of musk and rain, / Is brushed off by some unknowing passerby
5
Mar 7, 2015
The MagicianThere is a man at the circus / who draws scarf after scarf from his sleeve. / Fragile cloth, taut in his grip,
20
Feb 3, 2015
Sorry, Sorry, SorryI did not bring flowers / when I came to your empty home, / a house filled, a cacophony, a tray of hot food
13
Jan 7, 2015
Growing upOnce the calenders are up and slow January has melted through to July, / we will be the ribbon in the clearance bin at a craft store after Easter. / You and I and everyone, we are the sky-blue silk that,
11
Dec 31, 2014
On Possessing BothI belong to the Church of Goethe, / where on the sabbath we / remove our nitrile gloves
11
Sep 11, 2014
Grammar SchoolPhrasing, you say / Is imperative— / Parse, perfect, punctuate.
27
Sep 3, 2014
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