at herself in the mirror. Little girl asks, pleads, demand I show myself, to come out. I whisper to her bones if I walk outside of her skin, the air untwine me until I am molecule, then atom, then memory. Little girl asks what is a molecule. I remind her skin, nerves, bones how the only science she understands is the science of want, how she constantly confuses it for need.
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J. Bradley is the author of the graphic poetry collection The Bones of Us (YesYes Books), with art by Adam Scott Mazer. He lives at iheartfailure.net.
Showing posts with label prequel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prequel. Show all posts
23 March 2014
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