Two Acts MAG

By Rachael R., Dacula, GA

      act one

like a great white crane

she stood on one foot among the ovid and the shakespeare

with her daffodil white blond head cocked at a perfectly calculated right angle

frozen burning t.s. eliot and e.e. cummings

to the back of her eyes

her hand reaches deep into the stream

and she fishes out a wet, sparkling, flipping anthology of walt whitman and devours it

with painful honesty

act two

i hold myself at night.


i bury ice cubes and thaw them in hot,

breathing flesh hold myself like mother holds pearl oyster

keeps a small, white child inmate within salty loins;

i love myself more than any lover could.

appreciate me more than anybody appreciates me

i hold myself, afraid,

keeping rising-falling-inhaling-exhaling rib cage together

and breasts and arms, fingers and toes and head;

tendons and vessels and lungs and heart together

i hold them together

stronger than paper clips and duct tape are lonely fingers

holding up a card house in a hurricane

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This article has 2 comments.

i love this so much!

on Sep. 8 2010 at 7:33 pm
This is an amazing piece of work. You have an incredible way with words.


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