In the ice house

In the Lack of My Voice

26 In the lack of my voice Where the door slides shut, the hook I use to latch it You’re marred like the sea, asking questions The lights are something magical but make my head turn, my face bloat and dry I’ll keep my own self at bay before night surges. stunning swollen anemone, What do you do when you can’t take a drink? since you can’t have a drink? 27 In a plane, high above any water, the sound of the bells unringing The way the world indulges me,What do we want for dinner? And we must rely on memory, iffy, off the waves in the moonlight Pushing at the edges more often than not What the fire keeps out I see myself in and dislike that more than the trembling Maybe so ...