And yet againThe sun is not afraid of anythingI, too, present no threat tothe buffeted comfortyou purchased that timeI coveredthe blue flowers on my cheekswith an invisible dustingEverything the light touchesis something to conquer,to contain. I am in abrass container, your fingersbrush the edges. I can see the insideof your nose, into your brainYou made sure the lampwas decorated well, sowell, I can’t ignoreyour desires—you throwdresses at me, wine and rougefor days, sharp diamondsthat sparkle red seeds onmy skin. You rub me often.Outside, you insistthe world has ended—the sunhas shrank in fear, and so, too, will Ibarrier-free, you-freeBut windows are wide, you providedthose. Nothing should be moretransfixing than your story.And yet
Terese Mason Pierre is a writer, editor and organizer. Her work has appeared in the Hart House Review, Bad Nudes, and Train: a poetry journal, among others. She is currently the poetry editor of Augur Magazine, a Canadian speculative and surrealism literature and art journal. Terese is also a co-host of Shab-e She’r Poetry Night, and a co-organizer of Slant Reading Series. Terese lives and works in Toronto.
the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan
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