![]() MARC
ESCALONA GABA
HERS [Dickinson] Imagine
in the sound of a drawer sliding shut---
of
the lock like a kiss---her mirror begins
now
collections of lines slitting her
remember---this
riddle, this secret---where
how
her eyes will close as an Auctioneer
Death
in advance, in the avoidance---her Life
alabaster
chambers where they can be free….
of
her exoskeletal white dress---the music
history
is---each crucial accident of boredom---
that
now she must be pieced together---hips, thighs,
&
luster of her---Form---that only she could know,
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