Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Final Issue 2018
Telephone (Ghazal)
Emily Brink

Young girls speak in harp strings on the telephone

The wires thrum with awkward schemes, on the telephone.

Their beautiful hair unravels in pools of gold

They speak sagas and warn parents, on the telephone.

In ancient Rome, virgins were tested, held water tight in a sieve.

They think virginity is a multiple choice question, on the telephone.

They share the moon, an eye between them

They weave a tapestry of longing, on the telephone.

Their hearts break in unison on the telephone

Emily remembers how the moon went dark, on the telephone.

About Emily Brink

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