“Quiet” he said and put his hand on my mouth.

His other hand stroked my hip

and I was

for a time



Later, I thought about the blasphemy

of silence, its betrayal.

You think

it feels calm.  



Even the thought of snow’s silence

or the silence of blood drops

is terrifying.

The time

it takes


for the stem of quiet to grow long

and silence to flower

like a pale

yellow anemone

is a fool’s errand.


Take a large fistful of time,

stand at the edge of the ocean.

Soon you won’t know

if it is fabric

or dust


Cut out the noises of traffic

and love-cries,

and you are left

with a life

that puts drought-


plagued deserts in your

open hands and longing

like salted caramel

icing on

your tongue.

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About Martina ReiszNewberry

1 2
ewberry’s books are NEVER COMPLETELY AWAKE (due out in 2017 from Deerbrook Editions), WHERE IT GOES (Deerbrook Editions), LEARNING BY ROTE (Deerbrook Editions), RUNNING LIKE A WOMAN WITH HER HAIR ON FIRE (Red Hen Press), LIMA BEANS AND CITY CHICKEN: MEMORIES OF THE OPEN HEARTH (E.P. Dutton &Co) Her work has...read more been anthologized and widely published in the U.S. and abroad. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband, Brian Newberry, a Media Creative.
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