Page 19

Tilde: A Literary Journal

Her Father was a Pair of Binoculars in this Metaphor Pamela Carter Through you she glances back at sparkling Seattle sharpened to sharpest clarity and framed in the black circles of your paired barrels, or gazes at the sun reflected twice, in glass and flat water, her palms against the sturdy black, yes, elegant plastic.

Because she can, she dangles you around her neck, where you bang, bang against her heart.

Iodine Christopher Hopkins After a driest day blue, an iodine smear. Low and seen with rolling eyes. The long grass could be called weeds of hiding our sin. Seeing the crows feet of the pumpkin through the river trees, the Tycho gasp, but his eyeballs never turn away. A roll of an engine, as a Shepard tone approaching. Headlights searching fingers through the bracken line, but we are not found. Burning bright. The night pulls over loosely as our blanket. Bodies moist before the dew. The stars shone on our bodies. On our lilac pale skins. We fell into the wells of our eight ball eyes.

Poetry | 14

Issue 1

Profile for Thirty West Publishing House

Tilde: A Literary Journal Issue 1  

Thirty West presents Tilde, a worldwide lit journal featuring poetry, prose, and visual arts. 48pp. ISSN# 2576-9618

Tilde: A Literary Journal Issue 1  

Thirty West presents Tilde, a worldwide lit journal featuring poetry, prose, and visual arts. 48pp. ISSN# 2576-9618

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