Eve F.W. Linn
After photographs by Francesca Woodman
Head first from the bottom shelf,
I spill out, sleep-tumbled,
in the yellow eyes of a stuffed vixen.
Here, my body in a chair.
Stains pool by my feet, or is it
my shadow? My shoes wait
Here, my hands sooty as sparrows,
I look under everything.
I am a case, a box lot,
Sometimes, there are three of me with
the same face.
Eve F.W. Linn received her …/ Read ›