GLAMOUR

The look I am hunting: the onethat through color and cut glares the starer into a skull or a skeinof lightning, a switch stalled at dawn, or the gloamingalong an equator. What fascinates I shine like flame-blackened foil,a rhinestone snoring at lake bottom, a wreck’s brass-bound astrolabe,bright as hard tender, newly minted, mewling and naked underoil-slick pleather sieving light, prism-like, my limbs sing their sirensong, pull ribbons of pure note over the pack’s snarl and bark, teeth pop,dangling chain of saliva snaps— deep under, I stayseamless as a safe, a rust-sealed letter box, corroded pill case, my insidesscoured to looking glass by a tangle of wind trapped,a cyclone circling the space the size a doll’s eye makes,panting my small breath. Maggie Queeney is the author of settler, selected by Shane McCrae in the 2017 Baltic Writing Residency Poetry Chapbook Contest. Her most…