Page 22 - the NOISE July 2013
P. 22
CONTINUED FROM 19
to nyx
by Jason Cassella
A smile winces, crumbling below my left cheek
where humming inside an ochre flame barely tries hiding scores of prose,
quickening, drumming gross thread, listening to cracking embers
where I have placed us cross-legged around firestones, birdstones of men, where I would grow me twigs and dancing set your being to root
where I will have lusted no more. But I can’t help that. No worship can.
In the end there’s nothing left to allude to but gifts from women, crying from having been noticed.
I want to hear the wind push chimes when I’m thinking of you.
I want your eyes when they’re feathered, glistened, clawing,
as bones of our throwing are working on reforming old woes all the time.
| jasoncassella@yahoo.com
art by kimmberly ioane
kimmberlyioane@yahoo.com
22 • JULY 2013 • the NOISE arts & news • thenoise.us
