The
same signatures
in the guestbooks,
like cursive
shadows.
Why
the long drives
into rain? Or
the soft screams
down the well?
At
a distance:
the boy-child,
the shoelace,
the rose petal.
We're
caught between
two right angles.
Blood draws
its own enemies.
We're
skin, the inadequate
theory that
couldn't save
anyone's life.
We're
not the last
thing Marat
wanted to see
underwater.
Origami,
and hands that
fold the paper
into sharp triangular
forms.
This
eyelash on the
mirror marks
the 49th day
after the flood.
We're
all awaiting
forgiveness,
moon-melt on
a piece of breast.
Biography
Arlene
Ang lives in Venice, Italy where she edits
the Italian edition of Niederngasse. Her
poetry has been published in Envoi, The
Pedestal, Rattle, Smiths Knoll and 2River
View. Her first full collection of poetry,
"The Desecration of Doves" is
available through Amazon and Barnes&Noble.
