The Disappearing Woman
We scrub March sludge, soak up
marsh chorus in our shared porcelain
tub under cloud-clad sky. We dive in
to the rain-clad quarry with naked acrobats.
I notice my body does not match.
We scrub March sludge, soak up
marsh chorus in our shared porcelain
tub under cloud-clad sky. We dive in
to the rain-clad quarry with naked acrobats.
I notice my body does not match.
Floating, supported in her mother’s
arms, the two
bodies crossed in eloquent
echo. Look and look