Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2011 v10n1
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The Drama Girls

Were we never a still lake? No, we never were.
We never reflected back anything but ourselves.
We never shifted subtle with the wind. It was not

our desire. We were our desire. We were bird
cries, sudden and more obscene than was necessary.
We were paste jewels glinting in pines. We were

never the lake, but we were the lakeside creatures,
soft bellied, begging. We rolled over to be patted,
and then we put teeth to skin. And then we rolled again.

These days ache. We send our voices out
into air, and air eats them. We are meant to be thrown
stones. Where is the mirrored sky for us to shatter?  end

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