Camera Obscura

J.W. Ledesma
She circles in front of a thin hole

drilled so that light coughs in.

Against the back wall, I am spread, hoarding her reflections

I went to the doctor, she says and flutters near.

Her abacus husband is left somewhere outside

figuring things and things and things.

I record that tumors eat

and tumors feed

and tumors must be warded off

and boxed off

and bound in twine.

Published by J.W. Ledesma

I grew up in rural Indiana, roamed the world a bit, studied a bit and now call Indianapolis my home.  View profile

To comment, please sign in to your Yahoo! account, or sign up for a new account.