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February 27, 2019 Poetry

Stone Song 

Jaya Stenquist

Stone Song  photo

All day Iphigenia 
so far from the man I came to see.
Haven’t we tired of famous men? Shouldn’t I 
have my shoulders back, chin straight—I was given graces
that distract from the tissues in my heels, this dress whose last
lost a button at the hip. Always I’m slightly out of fashion.
The orchestra moves itself like a school, each note
diamond scale. A fish turned this way—then that
I am part and whole water & music breathes 
in me in proper nouns, names herself

names things I pretend I do not know
my mother, the best road home
that you do not love me
that one kind look cannot gut breast-to-throat
my silver heart, will not reach inside my mouth to hook—

take or give me a soul.

At the bar, your voice revolves as the wave that hums
my bone, untouched string instrument 
beside the first chair.

Your palm, look—what you have
exactly what you want.

image: Yena Kim