Every Time I Look In The Mirror I See A Gulf

Sara J. Grossman

Skin orbits itself.

I am forever

Slipping out.

The stratosphere

Of the room breaks.

I think of Lucy Grealy.

How we both like couplets

And I know why.

I try to see myself as I am seen:

Sliver of a body,

Superfund in June.

In the blank night, iron takes

Its mineral off.

The chrome of water

Slides down my throat.

I watch me

Fill me up.

There are so many names for what

Is missing — membrane, bone,

Symmetry of nerve.

I say the colors of two

Types of ragweed:

Cadmium, clear

Amber. Taxonomies of

Abundance.

If I were

To find me

I would take you there.

 

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