Today's poem is by Amanda Dalton
I carry you
like a fortune-telling fish on one flat palm
held out in front of me, an offering
made in Taiwan. Like this, look see.
You flip that's false,
curl under, fickle,
dead, in love.
I carry you like a candle-flame in the damp night,
in the vast nave, make a shield of my other hand,
so you're a cupped moth in the cave of two hands.
But how can I open the door?
Will you open the door?
There's no one to open the door.
Copyright © 2012 Amanda Dalton All rights reserved
Blood Axe Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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