Saturday, December 22, 2012

A Poem by Nicole Yurcaba


the dynamics shifted in your favor
so that you could spill your thick ink onto my unlined pages,
exposing half-truthed confidences between my spread-open covers.

you creased me, broke me at my well-stitched, leather-bound spine.

eventually you tore, ripped, shredded my corners.

how could i--the diary whose pages you gently fingered--ever have fallen into abused disarray?

Reach into the Darkness and Feel

stretch your blood-licked hand to grasp the glass
shards littering the rain-kissed asphalt--
remnants of a wreck formerly known as "Love".

and as I lie motionless, glassy-eyed, concussed,
I'll forgive myself for inadvertently jerking the steady wheel
from your guiding, all-knowing hand;
headlong-sending us into a guardrail disguised as "Reality".

Nicole Yurcaba is a backwoods feminist hailing from West Virginia. Her childhood icons were Daniel Boone, Bettie Page and Rosie the Riveter. An adjunct instructor, farm hand, and substitute teacher, her work has been published in a multitude of places including Referential Magazine, VoxPoetica, Rolling Thunder Quarterly, The Literary Burlesque, Floyd County  Moonshine, and many others.

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