After the Move,
I will dance with Monet in the empty room, dance as if the painting needs a host,
needs an out from the white walls blank with old holes, holes attempted
to be filled with dancing arm throws, heart sobs, amateur paint
strokes onto blank sheets of paper, paper clean as bleach
I would pour in the sink to rid stains from a night
with mulled wine, laughs, wine-soaked
oranges toppling out mouths.
We’ve saved the oranges
too long. They mold
fuzzy white now,
white as walls
Emmaline Bristow grew up in Helena, Montana and attended the University of Montana for her Bachelors in English with emphasis in creative writing and literature. She also obtained her Masters of Fine Arts in poetry from Drew University. Emmaline’s writing centres around place and memory and how the two affect her identity. She has had work published in Fatal Flaw, Z Publishing and Vasterian among other journals, and she currently resides in Missoula, Montana where she works in communications for her local government.
The Ekphrastic Review
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