Page 18

Remission Something stays stuck when I prise this photo from the wall. What if I slid my fingers into the air that sleeps under the print? Will I need a knife to scratch off the remains of her face? And the remnants of her shirt? And the shards of glass she nearly drank from? And what if I want to drink the dregs from that glass? Or if I'm lured by the scraps of her shirt to smell faint traces of perfume on the wall? And what if she were to smile when my fingers draw close to her lips – were they kissing the wall just as I was thinking of taking down her photo? Why can't I learn from an artist and quietly place her photo in a frame? Did I need all these years of wounding my fingers every day, healing with my blood what I can't remove – the remains of a photo and a wall.

13

Profile for Conversation Poetry

CPQ Summer 2012  

CPQ Summer 2012

CPQ Summer 2012  

CPQ Summer 2012

Advertisement