"no" by Thomas Gillaspy
"Hoarfrost" by Brian Czyzyk
Your zinnias are crystallized,
Mom. Winter’s decided to shrivel
and drink them. It gnaws at the veranda.
In the kitchen, you squeeze dough
into little men. When I tell you I love him,
your mouth flattens like the horizon.
If only you knew the nights I knelt
under the moon, crushing my knuckles
into the face of God. If only
I could tell you that the craters converged
to the laugh-lines of Janet,
our dentist’s secretary.
I want to tell you I choke
on Christmas incense, how in the pew
my fingers loop into bowlines,
how he undoes the purl of my guts
when I need that. I slip into the creek of his arm,
the way I used to do with you.
Mom, the world is full of miracles,
like my sister’s first scream
after they unraveled your guts
into a metal bowl, and scooped
her from your uterus.
That was your miracle. Mine presses
the guilt out of me, shelters me from winter’s bite.
He cradles me like you cradled my sister
as her eyes first opened to the crescent of your mouth.
Mom. Winter’s decided to shrivel
and drink them. It gnaws at the veranda.
In the kitchen, you squeeze dough
into little men. When I tell you I love him,
your mouth flattens like the horizon.
If only you knew the nights I knelt
under the moon, crushing my knuckles
into the face of God. If only
I could tell you that the craters converged
to the laugh-lines of Janet,
our dentist’s secretary.
I want to tell you I choke
on Christmas incense, how in the pew
my fingers loop into bowlines,
how he undoes the purl of my guts
when I need that. I slip into the creek of his arm,
the way I used to do with you.
Mom, the world is full of miracles,
like my sister’s first scream
after they unraveled your guts
into a metal bowl, and scooped
her from your uterus.
That was your miracle. Mine presses
the guilt out of me, shelters me from winter’s bite.
He cradles me like you cradled my sister
as her eyes first opened to the crescent of your mouth.
Brian Czyzyk was selected as a finalist for The Gateway Review's 2016 Fabulist and Fantastic Flash Fiction Contest, and has work published in and forthcoming from Dunes Review, Indiana Review Online, Assaracus, Harpur Palate, Crab Orchard Review, and elsewhere.
Thomas Gillaspy is a northern California photographer. His photography has been featured in numerous magazines including the literary journals: Compose, Portland Review and Brooklyn Review. Further information and additional examples of his work are available at: http://www.thomasgillaspy.com
http://www.flickr.com/photos/thomasmichaelart/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/thomasmichaelart/
