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Isis Complex
When the lightening hit,
glinting teal in my green mirror,
we were tangling our legs around
the length of the linen sheet
my mother laid thin at the tip
of your bed. And the
light,
aging our white bed to tan,
was aligned with our hands
and the lineage we traced out
with our genitals onto that sheet.
And with the rain, the cracks of heat
The tingling energy of gin and light
I ran to the line.
The linen,
gentling in the new light,
hangs like a nit on a strand of hair.
We are genial, hail the wind
measure the length of late last night
when I hung the thing
like a hinge on the line.
Understanding Physics
Bounce on the knee, on the rim
of an hourglass, learn that
c is the speed of light,
and energy is mass times such squared.
That if energy is everything,
and she must be something,
my blanket weighs sixteen point five ounces
and is steady
and is equal.
If we define P
as the length from the earth
to the moon in May
then, all this is a priori, all of this
is autonomous in itself.
Then if P=hr³,
h must mean actual distance,
and r is the secret phenomenon
of space and God and ozone.
r is the spectrum of time
it takes beyond the distance
between the index finger and the ear,
what divides it in the middle.
h is subordinate to r,
and r is subordinate to E,
and r sometimes equals E,
but never finishes it.
The E in my pinky toe
is less than the r in my heel,
which is less than P,
but more than h,
and all together
equal.
Sara Moore is a recent graduate of Bowling Green State University.
She has a bachelor's in creative writing with a minor in philosophy. She reads in excess.
She likes dogs, but not particularly cats (unless they are male). She has five younger siblings
and deeply believes that she suffers from the disastrous disease known as the "oldest child syndrome".
Sara Moore
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