Girl on a magazine cover,
covered over,
her body doesnt interfere
with the page or the clothing
draped around her.
There's no sound surrounding her.

My hands are like mallets,
cold dead fish, white so white and
submerged in the picture books
of bodies and cloth.

Bend the spine and the girl disappears,
winks back and flips in
motion with the leaves of the pages,
I can see through her like words,
I can feel her like high-gloss,
I can wish for her.

05/22/2005

Posted on 05/22/2005
Copyright © 2025 Vikki Owens