by Molly Gaudry
A carafe, that is a blind glass. —Gertrude Stein
In a different version it was not a pea but a cocoa bean
you came to us in the night
soaked in cold
trembling with fatigue
Mother brought you inside where the last of our candles were burning
prepared for you a bed of many mattresses
in the morning she asked how you had slept
I was the one who did the beds
knew you had not slept on those mattresses
had slept on the floor
I had never seen a being so beautiful as you
who in passing my cocoa-bean test brought me great inspiration
the dresses I fashioned from that point forward where winged creations made from the excesses of water on hand
each drop sewn one on top of the next so that the texture was rippling as a pond beneath the moon….
Molly Gaudry is the author of the verse novel, We Take Me Apart (Mud Luscious Press, 2009), and the editor of Tell: An Anthology of Expository Narrative (Flatmancrooked, 2010). She curates Walking Man Gallery, edits Willows Wept Press and Willows Wept Review, is a co-founding editor of Twelve Stories, and is an associate editor for Keyhole Magazine. She writes occasional book reviews for East&West Magazine, and she’s currently tweeting a chapter of her new verse novel, FLORA THE WHORE, every few days on Twitter.
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