Atlas & Alice | Issue 3, Spring 2015
Backdrop Silence has retreated beyond the blade of fan; grasses blade in the wind. The bark stripped bare; Tree’s striptease— the lightning a cat o’ nine tails. Forty lashes for the thief who stole the full moon. A florescent satiates Night’s slow dance. In another state
someone’s brother swallowed a bullet; a lover’s betrayal captured in the curve of signature the last silence. A mother is gone—her red lipstick always smiling bedside picture; a father’s kiss lingers of salt and olive. This silence is electric. On every napkin a room; in every corner a line scrawled in pencil—where am I? What ghost will I turn down tonight? Black velvet drapes the window—shut out the light—the blinking, inconsolable light.
Issue 3 | Spring 2015