Aprilia Zank shoots

Janette Schafer writes

At a gymnastics exhibition

There is a quiet dark girl—

all rage and concentrated muscle—

who flings her body like

a child's ragdoll. I envy

her center of gravity, steadiness

of gaze and body. They call it

tumbling, except she always seems

so sure. I wondered how she

walks on earth after tasting sky.

 

Anahit Arustamyan writes

I AM SURPRISED

I have read fifty-five pages of my life's book so fast.
O I have never rushed.
That little girl has already flown like a butterfly.
Hey, fifty-five pages, where are you now?
Where have you gone?
You were my ages, you are dead sparrows alive in my mind.
The fifty-sixth page is unwritten yet with the ink of time.
O I am surprised.
How quickly I looked through the stories invented by life.
Hey, little girl, your hair was dark.
I know you played hide and seek with time.
How many clouds have silvered your hair so far?
I am fifty-five.
I still blink my eyes full of the pictures of my past.
That little girl is no longer me blinking her bright eyes.
That little girl turned to a photo of mine.
I can't recognize myself in it but I smile.
How quickly I have read these pages, I am still surprised.


Book of Life -- Yulia Litvinova

Partha Chatterjee writes

I stare into your eyes 

My stare 

Crawls up
Your rosy
Cheek as
A reeling snake
To reach
Your pupil,
A safe hole
For hiding.

Time is
Chasing after
Me with a
Stick in hand.

But it glides
Down
Several times

For your
Cheek is
So smooth
With coyness. 

 

Snake with Woman -- Kalhy