Poetry by Ann Farley
suRReal WOman walked oFF Canvas put one straight Arm around me fingers not quite tucked against my waISt Left her blue mouth in the bedroom conversations were DIFFicult but the silences smelled like Lilacs her eyes looked this way and that she didn't miss a THING her nose rested like a fallen seven across her wide yellow forehead she had a WAY of SNIFFing out falsehood one leg lacked a foot so she stood on POINt ready to spin this way or that out of trouble or right SMACK into It she was Me and I was heR but some days we were neither nOR and I would AcHe green for her other arm wish it could be found and re ATTACHed so her embrace might be COMplete
Ann Farley, a lover of poetry, art, and the deeply personal stories of others, lives in Beaverton, OR.