This poem was written by Miriam Borgstrom. It’s a collaboration of art and poetry from my most recent exhibition, All That Glitters. Enjoy
Whispering Inside the Pickled Lake: An Ekphrastic Response to Myranda Bair’s All That Glitters,
By Miriam Borgstrom
cradled in our sleep / and counting by hours / she has forgotten our capacity / encircled by children and their fingerprints / a tulip warns us / a tulip agrees / side-by-side we contemplate / the scent begins to grey / and counting / another hour ticks by / we were constructed by daylight / we were born accidently / and discussing the rain / discussing immortality / as we drop into the thorns below
a moment of exhilaration / and dancing / a child with three limbs just outside of focus / an urge to bite the rounded starlight / and questions emerge / discovering Plato or playdough for the first time / and gazing / a lifelong gaze / afraid of the dark, and stuck in the dark / whispers taunt this glow / this moment of hesitation is caught by palm / and a three-limbed child draws the curtains / and has one just noticed a faint blink
approaching this paradox / slowly / this passes / unable to keep up / a moment when daylight ceases to erupt / and one handful of gravel please / soft / and pleased to have pain / to feel unable to breathe again / this will pass / and unable to keep up / another pillowed crystal arrives too late / and afraid of what may happen next / a stampede may emerge / fragile fingers may stay in motion / and the pain hits / a soft pain / a soft pain waltzes into the distance / unable to waltz yourself
noticing multiple daggers / anticipation waits on the other side / upward / and gliding / gliding through gravel and decomposed plastic / a series of bubblegum breaths / a slight rotation / and in a blank / no minds come to thought / stuck from motion / glued into place / suddenly anxious / and suddenly not breathing / swaying / moved by marionette strings / and captured by puppeteers
leaning inwards / a comfort held here / and a capsule blocks out the toxic / the warmth stays / and one thinks of disappearing / one will vanish in multiple days / discovering light switches / and fascination / the light drifts away / is turned off completely / an urge to taste one another / sacrificing the warmth / the odd number / beginning a taste test / and feeling god-like / feeling the glow / or an illness fights upwards / poisoned / and cold
unaware / scurrying onward and unaware / listening to this rustle / this child with a limp runs by / and boneless / at an angle / emerging from sleep and starving / sunlight is fading / an affection / the same child runs backward / in search for a pet, lost / blinking / an affection for the blink / and a quick rotation / and a hunger, lost
Miriam Borgstrom lives in Southern Nevada. She has recent work in E-Ratio and Cosmonauts Avenue. Her chapbook, With Missing Limb, will be out this fall from Dancing Girl Press.