Poetry
The Hotel This Weekend
Even I am not aware of the air
that prevents me from walking to you,
laying my hand on you, your shoulders
whispering closer waves of white.
I stood face to face with what I should say,
my tongue with its voice staring back slips
behind the sun. Are you a soldier for this
weekend? Locate your formula, or else, give in.
I’d like to be the Italian woman biting
my jaw and chin, her secret designs pointed
at me with viewer intent. Here the people walk
their secret walks, hoping no one else takes note.
Contributor
Amy KingAmy King's latest book, The Missing Museum, is a co-winner of the 2015 Tarpaulin Sky Book Prize. King teaches English & Creative Writing at SUNY Nassau Community College and serves on the Executive Board of VIDA: Women in Literary Arts. She also joins the ranks of Ann Patchett, Eleanor Roosevelt, Rachel Carson and Pearl Buck as the recipient of the 2015 Winner of the WNBA Award (Women's National Book Association).