Leveler Poetry Journal
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Gemini

 

To belay a path upward,

I string a bow of newfound gut

and aim

towards an aperture of logic in the sky.

 

Horoscopes indicate:

chin up. You should go out tonight.

 

Summer’s daisy eyes stare at Dawn,

its clarity of cosmic red.

 

I’m awash in the season.

 

The people who act on love

in a mute tangle of ligaments,

and those who keep their own bread

and salt

 

speak elusive truth: there is nothing I have

that would make you love me:

no leverage, no pride at recognition, no dog.

 

I idle in torrents of reason,

wild-running streams

where iridescent fish cast straight lines

to the re-emerging sun.

 

Invisible mouths breath on my body

I’m searching for you, twin.




Mary Catherine Kinniburgh