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Oct 2013 · 713
Butterfly Arches
avital Oct 2013
It was a funny thing
that a girl who knew lips
through the lead of her pencil, the bold curves
and butterfly arches
the dips and creases and fullness of
the lower
in proportion to the upper, but not in proportion
with her own
would spend hours perfecting strokes
running her finger over the taunting image
a kind of torture subconsciously inflicted
and at its completion, she
would place her thumb over the angel’s own indent
and pray

She waited so long
turned her cheek to rash offers
refused to lower her eyelids, submit to just any combination
of creases and indents and
butterfly arches
until May
brought a boy
a pair of lips of the most
perfect proportion—
she made sure of this,
measured each distance with her own
touch
avital Oct 2013
A wooden chair sits in the corner
gently swaying- for she has just left
a child’s cheek pressed to her shoulder-
holding on as she awaits the theft

and the lamp, it stands alone
the only witness, her fantasy-
being childish, for of course she is just a child-
longing to be all she cannot be

the set of drawers watch in disgust
as she tosses aged shirts onto the floor-
escaped convict, she plagues her attentive room
altering she who she was before

yet the mother grasps her with determined arms
lips lightly grazing the top of her head
a silent goodbye, a surrender in advance
but still moments away from “go to bed”

A chair is a passing place of rest
one will stop along the way
a child sits upon her mother’s lap
to wait for the approaching day
Inspired by Emily Dickinson
Oct 2013 · 639
Untitled
avital Oct 2013
I.
Is fate always this
merciless, marvelous
are the stars that stretch across the sky like
dewdrops, falling as if dauntless
blind and
indifferent
surrendering itself to the fragile gossamer strands
the spider’s web, a facile yet
temperamental
safety net
the better choice,
I tilt my chin to the light
my cheeks coated in silver
and salute each flickering victim.

II.
Why the dime waited for her, I
do not understand, although my fingertips bear not only the blur of years past but the tragedy
merely a moment ago, it granted me nearly a lifetime to
slide my thumb along its dull rim
before permitting it to slip away
from my weak grasp and
fall
its silent death muffled by the damp earth and
each blade of grass, tips alit from the yellow porch light,
patiently waiting to be found by
newer, smaller hands and
hair ribbons
happily parting in her
presence.

III.
I suppose it worked out well, in the end
the finding was easy, for wishing and
hoping and
praying
long nights and still lashes
prayers silently sliding and cascading
down a jaw that quivers under
burdens, carried prayers
far and up and away
And maybe I have no one to
thank at all
But every night, I would whisper to an empty room
if I waited long enough
it would find me.
Oct 2013 · 592
Perfection
avital Oct 2013
there is a kind of effort in
effortless
that ducks behind available assumptions
and finds refuge, overlapping shadows
already cast
whispering truth to an inattentive audience
so that when you finally dare
to look closer
it is nearly impossible to see
strained perfection

— The End —