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ISSN: 1941-4137 |
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Volume Three Issue Two |
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The Dive Prayer is not language but my body recognizing itself — the curve, the bend. The gull in his hesitating, stunted dive, his ugly cry, sees the whole skin of the ocean. survive survive survive I don$#39;t have time to remind myself that I need seagull eyes. Arching my back in flight I'm weighty, unwieldy like a rifle. With tiny fingers, big triggers I bang against the sky, leave my ashes indistinguishable from stars and smog. |
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