Fallible Roundness

Poetry
Written By Felicia Zamora

You open, wing-like & one-sided. How halves make the smirk
& you always two things gathering. Together, repeats you.
Opposites never really dance on ends; instead, this infinite loop,
which goes on without us, because our anatomy knows of
circles & circulation; & when we say infinite, or trace our clever
little ovals kissing, we know we don't mean human. Loops tend
to end with something in the body attacking, think misbehave, a
giving up, twisted ___, a failing, cancer-this/cancer-that,
smashing metal, a taking, smashing glass, & the list, in fact, goes
on in meaningless ways in which words struggle to line-up, end
to end, ironically, in domino fashion, to be knocked down by
the inability to label all possibilities. This fallible roundness
tunnels me to you. I remain in ellipsis at your ribcage; peer in
the vast; hug these bone-bars; scribble path that weaves
ventricles & times pumps; long for a whole, a tremor, oblique.

 
Felicia Zamora

Felicia Zamora is the winner of the 2015 Tomaž Šalamun Prize from Verse, and author of the chapbooks Imbibe {et alia} here (Dancing Girl Press 2016) and Moby-Dick Made Me Do It (2010). Her published works may be found or forthcoming in Bellevue Literary Review, Cimarron Review, Columbia Poetry Review, Crazyhorse, Dogwood: A Journal of Poetry and Prose, ellipsis…literature and art, Harpur Palate, Hotel Amerika, Indiana Review, Meridian, North American Review, Phoebe, Pleiades, Potomac Review, Puerto del Sol, Tarpaulin Sky Magazine, The Carolina Quarterly, The Laurel Review, The Journal, The Normal School, The Pinch Journal, Witness Magazine, and others. She is an associate poetry editor for the Colorado Review, a fall 2012 Martha’s Vineyard Writers Residency poet, and holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Colorado State University.    

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