shot glass
Issue # 6 January 2012
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Isabel Sylvan

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Three lights from one lantern, meanwhile
the sun plays tricks over the moon.
It's easy to confuse the palm of my
right hand with the residue of the
morning news; seven dead and the
president says our future's bright
ahead. My plans are etched as cracks
towards fingers afraid to grasp.
I collapse, fold my hands between
my knees and pray to the fragments
of a light I still don't have the
faith to see. And the moon just
laughs at me.