By A.J. Huffman
from Icicles this Abstraction
Vision equals illusion. What cannot be seen often retracts, refracts into brilliant array of perceived mobility. Angles hang, vacant vases of possibility. Look closer. Infinity dangles just below the light.
I Am Staircase
spiraling towards nowhere I will ever reach. Archaic, I am kept in appreciation of past not function. I echo with memories, the soles of human retreat. Monstrous dust collector, I stand in silent corners and slowly rot.
The Other Side of Our Desire
My name is lightning. My touch is steel. Running cold and hot. I light your skin with lips of blush and blood. And silence is our dance. Beautiful. A show for any opened eye. But then it closes. Going dark. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . Our echo butchers the night. A marker. A record. Of how far we still have to come.
A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida. She has published 27 collections and chapbooks of poetry. In addition, she has published her work in numerous national and international literary journals. She is currently the editor for Kind of a Hurricane Press literary journals ( http://www.kindofahurricanepress.com ).