Corrine De Winter has been a freelance
writer for about 19 years. Her work has been published
in over 600 journals, books and magazines including New
York Quarterly, The Writer, Space & Time, Tales of the
Unanticipated, The Other Side, Yankee, Prisoners of the Night
Poet's Market 92-99,
and others. Her work has been nominated twice for The Pushcart
Prize and most recently for The Rhysling Award.
is designed and edited by Lucy A. Snyder.
If you spot any errors, or if you have any comments,
please contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.
All materials copyright 1996-2000 by their respective
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posted or published without the written consent of their creator(s).
by Corrine De Winter
It would've been easy
Once that season
To open my thighs
Like the night blooming moonflower.
It was summer after all
And Eros had been to my door.
He told me I'd never win.
I had seen your wings,
Bright indigo, folded
Unnaturally as you slept.
The moisture of newness,
Your face washed pale with albumen
Like one of Michaelangelo's frescoes.
I had breathed in
The musk of sleep in your hair
Every pale morning after.
It was said before you could speak
You were already leaning towards the sun.
Later, it was your beloved
Who counted the scorched feathers
One by one.