Place, archival ink print, 2012, with: Brenda Zlamany, Oona Zlamany
Place
This place, left of where you are.
Someone is there waving
who will not follow.
Her eyes are droopy blue
not smoky or significant.
The story here is about something
you would underline twice.
And the soft noises you make in your sleep.
Hinges joined with spaces in between.
Where I am desperate here on a
dock in the dark aquamarine.