Arsenic Lobster
poetry journal |
Issue Fifteen Winter 2007 |
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K'uei/Opposition Sari Krosinsky After the dream of the seer carving the hexagram in my palm, you look it up in the I Ching-- your copy, since I don't go in for fortune telling. It says to go with the flow. I wonder which flow it is I'm supposed to go with. I don't suppose I should add "in bed," though it'd be nice if it were easy as your tongue rippling over my toes. I'm a third- person dreamer, but that seer's knife wrenched me into my own eyes. She snatched my hand, broke skin like the red sea parting in reverse. Blood trickled down my palm between our fingers. Nobody wants to see that. Truth is, I'm the god-chaser; you just keep the Books. I spill the coffee, you wipe the table. We make our own balance, fire and water always meeting, never burnt nor snuffed. My palm is laced with fine scars even I can't see. |
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About Sari Krosinsky |