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Clay pottery with table linens_edited.jpg


—Patty Paine


house of lightning & warped

paneling. secrets settle over us

like how snow makes odd

the shape of our bodies

luminous, the light inside you,

sister. it’s true,

there are creatures

who want to break us.

his face, a strange cemetery,

a whole thorn bush,

we can’t forget.

you left home. what is left

to long for? the robin or its song?

all bowstring, this memory, loose tether,

a crying under snow.

i’ll always remember you aglow, marvel

the unbroken shimmer of moon.

i stash your letters in the floorboards.

the weather keeps shifting, i make

a body of paint chips, I whisper us

luminous until we are song.


PATTY PAINE is the author of Grief & Other Animals, The Sounding Machine, and three chapbooks. Her poems, reviews, and visual works have appeared in Blackbird, Adroit, Gulf Stream, Lomography, Thrush, The South Dakota Review, and other publications. She is the founding editor of Diode Poetry Journal and Diode Editions and is Director of Liberal Arts & Sciences at VCUarts Qatar.

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