I hang my dress over the wooden chair and say hello to the light.
I dismiss myself & sit on my knees to pray head down but this evening myself dismisses me.

The body of me is silent, my body and me
and mine. I am the dress upon the chair, and come to the end of afternoons softly.
In our silence, me and this body mine, we hear our own evil,

really it hauls when you listen,

a discomfort
colored in at starlight.

 

 

 

 

LISA MARIE BASILE is the author of APOCRYPHAL (Noctuary Press, 2014) and a chapbook, Andalucia. She is the editor-in-chief of Luna Luna Magazine and her poetry and other work can be read in PANK, Tin House‘s blog, Coldfront, The Nervous Breakdown, The Huffington Post, Best American Poetry, PEN American Center, Dusie, and the Ampersand Review, among others. She’s recently been profiled in The New York Daily News, Amy Poehler’s Smart Girls, Poets & Artists Magazine, Relapse Magazine and others. She’s been nominated for the Best Small Fiction 2015 and Best American Experimental Writing 2015 anthologies, and she holds an MFA from The New School. @lisamariebasile   lisamariebasile.tumblr.com

 

 

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