Tread Softly

I like them
closer to real,
the marrow in the blue void
that seals hymns
the hips
and thighs
to the gospel
according to arson,
the smolder
and bake
of flame-twisted
I like
where the locks
meet the hinges,
and long to binge
on the aches,
to pick out
every piece
of glass
in the annals of skin,
as if the mirror
that shattered
contained both
my history
and theirs,
I trace their annulments
with my fingers
and mouth
and pine
for what’s not there,
sign myself
to the ghosts
who swear
by their lives,
a medium’s
happy fetish
for haunting
where strangers
fear to tread.


About John Biscello

Originally from Brooklyn, NY, writer, poet, spoken word performer, and playwright, John Biscello now lives in Taos, New Mexico. He is the author of three novels: Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale, Raking the Dust, and Nocturne Variations, and a collection of stories, Freeze Tag. His fiction and poetry has appeared in: Art Times, nthposition, The Wanderlust Review, Ophelia Street, Caper, Polyphony, Dilate, Militant Roger, Chokecherries, Farmhouse, BENT, The 555 Collective, Instigator, Brass Sopaipilla, The Iconoclast, Adobe Walls, Kansas City Voices, and the Tishman Review. His blog--Notes of an Urban Stray--can be read at Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale was named Underground Book Reviews 2014 Book of the Year.
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