Laura Carter

 

POEM

Immaculate earth, the orchid stole your camera.

I found it in the field folded into the empirical book.

I pressed it to my breasts when nobody was looking.

I threw the film away.

I put the book on my bookshelf.

I put the camera in the honeysuckle.

My perceptions were clouded by memories.

I found an iron hinge.

I unlocked both doors with my elbows.

I followed closely and then I understood.

 

 

 

PHENOMENOLOGY

We were married in salt and bright cells: tissue.

The cognizance of sun remembered the day.

I awoke in the kitchen (countered) drinking abstract (image) of a good thing.

Light which is not is.

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