Journey

A quizzical figure

Slanted between frozen angles of suggestion

Leans against mirrors that reverse themselves

To caverns at once sacred and savage.

This feminine outline, perfect and shaded,

Avoids her reflection in the churning waters below,

Revealing only misdirection in these dark passages…

A soft figure that fills itself to the given space

And releases its parts to the air upon suggestion

Retreats from outlines imperfect in melting glass.

These maze-ridden paradoxes seem to converge

At various surface parts

Or rather the mirrors suggest such a cavernous union

That closed eyes cannot deny…

To see the other as if for the first time

Is the journey of seeing myself at the last expanse,

The final seascape of bleeding crustacea

Beckoning my feet already partially cleansed

By waters running through me to your break.

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Award-winning educator and published poet: A Consecration of the Wind, Fragmented Roots, and Souls Tilled Like Soil. Website: www.joannezarrillocherefko.com

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Joanne Zarrillo Cherefko

Joanne Zarrillo Cherefko

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Award-winning educator and published poet: A Consecration of the Wind, Fragmented Roots, and Souls Tilled Like Soil. Website: www.joannezarrillocherefko.com