Sylvia Chan

Mute & Devotion

eight women promising color & movement

, sticking to the stars’ sick shade of green

will pant under the étude piece, to snub themselves/

“yesterday stuck every part of her”

, single woman or ninth figure crowding the private space

beneath her eyelids & color;

“as though they were rolled-back;”

“& other promises push snow, don’t know how the eye

will bear/the eight close in silty water,

pulling through & through looks of horror & regeneration, silent as fisheye,

“please, the piece can cut your eyes”/

& they watch until the little piece is cut into radio-severed clouds

, until the ninth turns them over,

“the piece can give you enough eyes,”

“the piece is feathery violet on river sand,”

“see, I’m in love with this girl & she’s marrying another guy”/ strengthened by the vision of

her construct, the eight hang their hands

return to  SHAMPOO 39