March 5, 2018

Sybil waits for answers with one hand raised high and the other
pressed firmly against her neck. Her pulse gasps in time
with internal symphonies, but it is not life she strives toward.
Her soul rests where her head connects to her spine.
The lines of her vertebrae cri...

March 5, 2018

I warm my bones one at a time
by the river of ice.
I ask: “So, glaciers ‘gallop’?”

“Not many, but some.”
Frost curls my fingers in,
I press you for a reply.
“They don’t race
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