 Andromeda: Grand Hôtel de l’Observatoire, by Joseph Cornell (USA) 1964 The Reveal Our conversation splays just short of the end of wanting. When she cracks an oyster, you know she’ll amaze you with a pearl but no, she passes you a sapphire, then an opal. Once you warm these stones in your palms, she holds out a pearl, any pearl, now that your eyes are ready. It’s the first pearl your eyes have ever seen. Your words don’t fit your mouth anymore. You thought you had a hand but it’s an oyster shell. How will you ever hold her? Unbutton her? Richard Ryal A poet, professor, and editor, Richard Ryal has worked in marketing and higher education. He stops for no obvious reason sometimes and no one can talk him out of that. His recent publications include Notre Dame Review, Sheila-Na-Gig, and The South Florida Poetry Journal.
0 Comments
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
The Ekphrastic Review
COOKIES/PRIVACY
This site uses cookies to deliver your best navigation experience this time and next. Continuing here means you consent to cookies. Thank you. Join us on Facebook:
May 2023
|