February In the Mirror (A portrait)
Lauren E. Perez
When winter comes.
When murmur is not mere.
When I start to cover my neck again.
The difficulty was on the bones,
There is a middle missing,
tumbling down the street—
If frozen trees have
Not been enough, at least
you’ve had horses in your dreams.
When the eaves fell in puddles,
I know it will not be enough.
Tracing our paths back
from the lake, shedding ice
in chunks, we climb
a lip of sand.
But the sand, its moods and secrets
call us out, dropping us
before we reach the top.
I understand now all you did,
in the desperate moments
at the water’s edge.
There is finality, a second’s worth
of flicker. We know the tides
will rise when most expected,
against our willful pushing.
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Baking the Ginger Boy's Tongue by Jay Carson
February In the Mirror by Lauren E. Perez
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Talking Cure by David Barber
The Greeks by Martin Devecka
Theory to the People by Julianne Werlin