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Phases of Venus

Poetry & Prose | February 21, 2017

1.

through me, you first fell into the flat heat  of  florence summer. I held

you in the mornings and late afternoons.  Your father studied physics and the theories

of vibrating strings.  Behind his booming sonatas,  I became like the hills, that silent surrounding.

 

2.

I was  seventeen in the lemon grove with

you,  I remember warm

 

grass  and looking  up at the web

of branches above you, the movement

 

of celestial bodies

all dim light on my back

 

3.

When I was six we walked and walked and walked in the evenings and you told me about Kepler and Copernicus

and the details of planetary rotations. You drew diagrams of a heliocentric universe in the dirt. You said that

I was born of sinful fornication so no one would marry me. So I take the veil. Rename myself Sister Maria Celeste.