Two Poems
Consider the Mirror
Take the mirror. Steal it,
fingers bleeding, leaving a trail
clearer than breadcrumbs.
Broken it's better, it's more.
Hold onto the mirrors. Clasp them
in the purse. Reach in, reach out.
Numb everything else.
Outnumber yourself.
Bruise Time
If we used bruises to measure time,
we would have four days of the week:
black, blue, green, and yellow.
Each yellow day we'd have to
bruise up some other part of ourselves,
or we'd never know what day it was.
—Jessy Randall, Colorado Springs, CO
