Shades of gray settle against a world of untrammeled light.
By this she captures the shadow, all that remains of, say, a rocking horse, or what can be seen of the self.
Each forms a solitude.
ii
It becomes a question of salvation: what can be redeemed?
Conversion involves some necessity.
Behind a locked door time flickers, a silent movie that can’t be rewound.
Time was first reckoned by lunations: for instance, the distance from New York to London is equal to the circumference of the moon.
She turns her face to its light.
iii
Beneath glass resides the paraphernalia of her desire.
She prefers charcoal, how it crunches at the pressure of her grip, the essential carbon fire leaves in its wake.
She reaches for an apparition trying not to leave fingerprints.
Which is impossible.
A candlestick, a pair of tights . . .
-- Sally Ashton is editor-in-chief of DMQ Review, an online journal featuring poetry and art. She is the author of three poetry collections, and a fourth book, The Behaviour of Clocks, released in 2019. Ashton has taught at San Jose State University and numerous workshops, and is assistant editor of They Said: A Multi-Genre Anthology of Contemporary Collaborative Writing. Recent work appears in Rattle, Brevity, Zyzzyva, Poet Lore, and Los Angeles Review of Books.