As night slips into sunlight
and images reveal their artists, home
assumes a wondrous sense of otherness.
I say important things with my lips
pressed up against the rim of a vase,
whisperingly inarticulate. Cardiac
is an unpleasant way of thinking of the heart,
textbook bedside manner, considering love
thumping and shuddering
to always put life first.
As I lie here now, felt up
in complete tenderness, it occurs to me
that my body drops like a wave,
breasts trickling off my chest, thighs fighting
then collapsing, spreading, expanding
and thinning out, limpid and clear,
before retracting, climbing into themselves,
refining their pores
a pool of water collecting itself solemnly
to return to solidity.
The difference between inundate and undulate
is so slim, yet I master it
within the time bracket it takes to pour this glass
of water and drink it.
Copyright © Klara du Plessis. Originally published in Ekke (Palimpsest Press, 2018).
Klara du Plessis is a poet residing in Montreal. Her debut collection, Ekke, was released from Palimpsest Press in 2018; and her chapbook, Wax Lyrical—shortlisted for the bpNichol Chapbook Award—was published by Anstruther Press in 2015. Klara is the editor for carte blanche magazine, a PhD English Literature student at Concordia University, and currently expanding her curatorial practice to include experimental Deep Curation poetry reading events. Follow her on Twitter at @ToMakePoesis.
See the League’s 2019 Book Awards Shortlists here.