| Author | Message | ||
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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3590 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Mary Mallone Treezaa (T. E. Ballard) I wonder if you’re beautiful. If you wander aimlessly in the dark while she writes, the whale bone, the cocks comb down in her brown leather book. Do you know why her voice is the curve of the moon, small pink of an ear. Do you hunger after objects, to become innate gathering information. Waking, in the middle of the night, do you say planets are constantly moving away from the earth, scientists can separate cancer cells from a host, sickness lives content in a glass dish—a boat drifting to shore. Do you call Mary, sharing the same name, bed and does she speak or simply sleep on, dreaming away from you, falling away and do wonder if maybe it all is a metaphor for the suicidal moths flying through the window’s door. |
