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Mar 2013
I met a girl under the quivering black water
washed by the icy sharpness of drowning.
She looked up at me, silent, faceless,
without identity. Breathing salt
from the river with a frozen voice.

Tiny electric eyes scanned
the colossal reservoir with a desire
to escape the surface of watery
dark weeds and coral twig.

The prickling ache of sleepless
blood stuck inside me as I stared
into the maelstrom of identity
swimming in warped silence.

Now I sit, spiderlike, waiting.
The cauldron of night dragging in my veins.
Kara Troglin
Written by
Kara Troglin  Fayetteville, Arkansas
(Fayetteville, Arkansas)   
  804
   Aimee Toney and Emanuel Martinez
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