The first of three poems from my chapbook, ‘Disconnections’ to be published at ‘Misfits Miscellany’. My thanks to Philip Vermass.

Misfits' Miscellany

Gillian Prew

Brides do not touch me unless dead in their gowns;
the endless bloom of bouquets remaining tight
as innocence, while I, wide open
– a gutted fish, a lost iridescent –
have shown too many bones for ceremony.

I remain a walking silence in this. Dumb
to the violence of promises; a buried skull
laughing regardless. I am not

cream silk
nor eternity.

There is no lace in my lungs;
no filigree of breathing. I am
further from fury than before –
failure clots like a bloody memory
settling in the foreground,
all the distance indistinct
as a shadow.

I long to make peace with my anxieties:
they are cannibals. They are hungrier
than all my reconciliations. I

pick solitude from my life’s arrangement –
the most hospitable of its monsters.

©2012 This work is the property of the author.

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