mantra review

Summer 2018



Yesterday light cut my name
into stone and reminded me
of the pink beneath my eyelids.

Quiet is hard to find in the melting:
blessed with red candles and
songs built from brick and clouds,
my legs bend bone dry without
cartilage and water.

Yesterday the salt flattened
my mouth; a fidget of flesh
prickled we strangers of dust.

The halo burned my
tongue. I am still
followed and can feel camera
daggers, but their company
is welcome because the grass

is soft and thornless. In
transit, I live in the
moment when not trapped
in my throat.

Bryan Edenfield was born in Arizona but has lived in Seattle since 2007. He was the founder and director of the small press and literary arts organization, Babel/Salvage. He hosted and curated the Glossophonic Showcase and the Ogopogo Performance Series. His writing has most recently been published in Construction Magazine, Meekling Review, Dryland, and Plinth. He is currently one of the Jack Straw Writers for 2018 and the host of the Hollow Earth Radio program, Glossophonics.

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