News

News

-Svetlana Yefimenko

In a geometric sketch
Of shapes deliberate and narrow,
Inevitable as happiness,
Vicious as morality,
Brave as lingering between
Parting and vendetta,
I am considering the evidence:
A stale, uneaten sandwich.
These books, unread, unopened.
And us.  Untouched,
Undanced,
Unspoken.

But when I lean my chin
Into your open palm
It’s already tomorrow.

Well, then, we too
Are buried among
Expectation’s damp and dying roots
Of one we have eternally “just missed.”
One who’s half-light, half-asleep,
Alert to weak, transparent sounds.
It’s just the type of argument
I never learned to understand.

Broken

Broken

Semper Infidelis

Semper Infidelis