Magazine article World Literature Today

Three Poems

Magazine article World Literature Today

Three Poems

Article excerpt

[1]

this ours

that it be a union

of scissors: cut

the hair, the hems,

the cord that

feeds me worry with

every bite, my

secret family

line. Cut it

as if it were

uneven bangs,

the carton of

milk, the glued

pages

of a book.

I unwind

the wire

from the head,

a deformed hanger

that no longer

holds you up.

drip-dried glass

this ear:

lips remaining

only

if you look against the light.

harsh verses like

stitches, to

tell this story;

suture

with wire.

my word

a moth that

collides with light

(you, a fiber

that sizzles

preserved in a jar)

[2]

If every time that

I sweat I lost a bit of you I would be

at a good point:

you wouldn't return to

my throat in the morning, only

as a shroud in my

sheets.

[3]

When the eye darkens

don't search for the warmth of

the hand that lowers the eyelid,

the melody of the word escapes,

the voice that smiles at you with

redone teeth.

If language is the world, it's

a mirror, find yourself there with

wide-open

pupils, fish there from that black

that ink that tells you the vertical

word. …

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