Below my breasts stands a drawer
Wide open, shifting
With each step, with each stumble.
In my rocking horse gait
I saunter, flinging
Open wide, the weakness
Of my thighs
Slamming their shelving
Braced against the crook of my hips.
A crutch no longer needed.
A silent fire pinned to your guilt.
You’re currently reading ““My Giraffe In Fire”,” an entry on Peripheral Vision
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Michelle Taylor is a lone girl living a life that exists in her peripheral vision.
She writes “The Mama Politic,” a column at www.mamazine.com.
She has a B.A. in “poetry” from The Evergreen State College and holds a M.S. Ed from Sarah Lawrence College.
She has taught in New York City public schools, a New York Penitentiary and is currently a teacher at a community school in West Seattle.
This is her fiction and poetry blog.
Her personal site can be found at: www.outloud.wordpress.com
Her photography site can be found at: www.adappledapple.wordpress.com
Her classroom site can be found at: www.thelivingclassroom.wordpress.com
Contact her at themamapolitic@riseup.net
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