essay: memory
essay: memory
The pawn moves in inaccurate circles.
This time it’s not about the ear; this time it’s
the sound of the woodlot falling in the temple.
We read our radiators in one room.
I was lifting up my dress; you were lifting up
the irascibility at the end of time.
That end drew too near one early morning.
I feathered it and ate its bugs at the circus.
I became the house into which I took my friendships.
Mid-morning it is all about diamonds.
There’s a move on the other side of now.
There’s not really an other side in here.
What I left at the ballot box was my own face.
Today I am wearing a pretty shirt.
by laura carter
Laura Carter lives in Atlanta, Georgia.