Palindrome
niches of listless clouds waited,/ they were talking about it today:/ the boy that died, face down
Stephanie Valente lives and writes in New York. She has been featured in various publications including Hell Strung and Crooked (Uphook Press), Bust Magazine, dotdotdash, Nano Fiction, among others. One day, she would like to be a silent film star. http://kitschy.tumblr.com
niches of listless clouds waited,/ they were talking about it today:/ the boy that died, face down
the swallow hips, hands tighten a grasp instead of shuffling papers and with clementine oranges, all to spare my eyes widen, a set of lips unburdened, to charge, to rifle just as quickening tenses when a woman, without apron stitches up conversational parts my words are reduced to newspaper headlines stop, go, yes, please, maybe is a forbidden word in the construction of marriage my husband, wrapped at my hip bones fingers spread like letters, pressing ink into my shoulder coffee cuts, mouths waiting akimbo a command, cut fruit across a platter and my voice pours through breakfast. ...
