SOME CALL THIS SELF DEFENSE
by Kelli Allen
It’s corrosive, the mirror, some face
dying in snow thick enough to bury
luggage and your lover, both. So, what
does looking publish about the mysterious
ticket that is you, a wound, a drink, a body?
Understand that it is painful work to stitch
inertia and hours and talent into skin
vulgarized by what you think you inherit.
Come money, come time, come hands, all
unremitting even when you lower your arms,
clear the steam from glass, whisper hurry
backwards into the rising, rising fog.
Gyroscope Review - page 44
!