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.