The day is the longest thread,
a continuing out and out and out.
Mirage: a piece of light tricks
the floor to spark. The shard
of a shattered glass.
Shell: a sweater with a button off,
the two sides
in a lopsided embrace.
The night is the longest bowl,
a continuing down and down and down.
Nightshade: something escapes in sleep,
the huff of a dream scrapes
along the pillow.
Halo: fantasize the body
to supple, a strand
that sings under fingers.
Even so, the terrible gape
of the tongue wagging in air:
a blind pig snuffling
the taut skin
of a ripe fruit.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 17, Issue 1.
See all items about Ruth Williams