Winter 2005

WINTER 2005

Stacey Waite ONLY She doesn't want any more of this white sky, so full of itself and whole. She doesn't know if she'd recover. She eats bread in small pieces. The sting ache of my tongue from all its reaching inside the broken windows of her body. We tell each other stories, or we're about to. More white sky. No names. No track of time. Only bodies to feel the world with. Stacey Waite's poetry has apperared most recently in Blom, Chiron Review, Marlboro Revies and Nmirod. A collection of her work, entitled "Choke," was the recipient of the 2004 Frank O'Hara Prize for Poetry.

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