Gillian Prew

Swaddled in summer,
the day after the longest day:
everything sweat –
my mother pricked with blood.
The accumulation of winters –
the foggy precipitation of remembrance
skimming the dust. The dust
for the new silences it embalms. Ephemera,
these indulgences –
these dark vaginas;
fleeting commotions –
embellished sadnesses,
sometimes art
or a death.

©2012 This work is the property of the author.

Posted on November 29, 2012, in Gillian Prew, POETRY and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. More profound work from Gillian. Her images and ideas linger long after the poem is read. It’s a second poem from her chapbook DISCONNECTIONS.

    Read the first by clicking this link:

  2. Gillian’s lovely autobiographical fragments ring true to form.

  3. i was troubled by “these” in the line, these dark vaginas
    all vaginas are dark…..they are interior
    the vulva is exterior

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