hoping to fill crack and crevice, momentarily
melding with perceived masterpiece.
They are always hopelessly unfinished
and much more marble than buff
once night’s curtain has fallen. Dawn cracks
a smile, and it is every icon for itself.
It never ceases to amaze me how often
my body is the one left,
still standing, alone, but fully intact.
Author Bio:
A.J. Huffman has published seven solo chapbooks and one joint chapbook through various small presses. Her eighth solo chapbook, Drippings from a Painted Mind, won the 2013 Two Wolves Chapbook Contest. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee, and her poetry, fiction, and haiku have appeared in hundreds of national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, Bone Orchard, EgoPHobia, Kritya, and Offerta Speciale, in which her work appeared in both English and Italian translation. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. www.kindofahurricanepress.com