- Vol. 08
- Chapter 11
HOW WE LOOK WHEN WE’RE NOT LOOKING
Judging the scene, at first, I thought exotic bird,
a plane, a playful dolphin, but no, too easy.
Yet perplexed, I thought post-tornado,
everything upended, hanging upside down
by a thread, but then I came closer. There she was—
an alluring entity with a crowd edging closer
to take all of her in. Not just because they liked
jigsaw puzzles, but because they thought they
had identified a lost piece of themselves.
How to describe? —Her hair, dyed green, combed
to one side. Her eyeless face stunningly orange,
moist and edible, and behold! —She ripens before us.
her head tilted to favor her right shoulder. Arms
outstretched into a pseudo smile, but as if to say,
“What?” or “Why?”
The group was already tearing up before she took on
her statuesque pose. Beneath the flesh we sense
she is both sweet and sour. Ever so slowly her arms
lower into a sad frown. Whatever she is holding,
she releases, reaching down to embrace the hard
darkness she is perched upon. Our eyes moisten
all the more as we sob quietly along with her.
HOW WE LOOK WHEN WE’RE NOT LOOKING
Her head, suddenly detached, rolls awkwardly down
her arm, across the floor, fading into the whiteness
that surrounds her. We, too, finally stop clinging, feel
we are coming apart, losing balance, slipping out of our
world weary selves to join her in her hue-less oblivion.