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Saturday, February 17, 2007

Will you?

Come Play

Those braided chains around each finger:
rings rosy, helixed where what’s within
reaches for anothers’ skin.

The fissured callus beneath each heel:
mud-flat playa where what’s without
turns, returns, and ends the drought.

Those ghost-fine lines across each cheek:
ex’d and hatched where smiles begin
and rest, again, from outside in.


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The poem above missed the submission deadline for the current issue of quarrtsiluni, "Come Outside" -- but you don't have to miss reading/seeing what's been published there.

5 comments:

refugeefromreason said...

Fine poem, nice scheme. I still can't draw.

am said...

Thank you, Lori, for what you do with words and rhythm. So many good reasons to visit your blog!

Dave said...

Nice poem, Lori. Sorry you missed the deadline, but we will have a bunch more good stuff between now and the end of the month. (I think you mean "current," not "upcoming.")

Lori Witzel said...

Ref: Glad you liked! Now, what have you been trying to draw, and did you really look at it for three minutes before trying? :-)

AM: Thanks back!

Dave: Thanks, and you're right -- now fixed.

Switchsky said...

Your blog, feels like home.
*makes myself comfortable.*