It gets my hackles up.
I force pencils on my desk to lean away from each other in their jar
I look for sympathetic lamps and curtains, but they're all cold
And tell me snootily to get over it.
Books turn away from me, hiding their faces
Icily from me, coquettishly from one another.
I want them to not touch
I wish I could control gravity
I'd make them float apart, alone, each object isolated and helpless,
Alone.
At home I open the cutlery drawer to see one spoon lying atop another: silver foreplay,
And I shriek, "I've caught you!"
"Now, now." says the top spoon in its plastic organizer, "yes, we are in bed together, but
ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý truly, we were just talking."
So he says — yet I slam the drawer shut and I seethe.
Miriam Breslow is a prize-winner in the
Photographer Oliver Braubach is a PhD student in physiology and neuroscience.
A Valentine in fourteen linesThe Department of English and the »ÆÉ«Ö±²¥ English Society are holding a Valentine's Day contest! The task has been to write a sonnet on a theme appropriate to Valentine'sÌýDay: love, unrequited love, rejected love. Cash prizes will be awarded at a reading and celebration on Thursday, Feb. 14, 4:30 p.m. in the Grawood Lounge in the Student Union Building. |