by Garrison Harper
August is the man who seems too good to be true,
like his body curved over grey space. He teaches how to pick
locks, mysterious interworkings, skin to break forbidden waters.
What bothered him most was wondering
if it should bother him at all.
If she sits too still for too long she stops believing—
the walls open up the untouchable surface, the empty space.
It has to be done gently otherwise it curls back on itself,
up and around, this imperfection—
just enough born open wide, dense and gravel all around.
Somewhere deep inside all things yearn to be opened
through wind song and downpours,
morning sun melted, like the universe unhinged shook the foundations
of the earth under the red explosive sunrise,
flawless memories, the hearts of birds.
Summer 2012 | “Powerdoll”; Yvette Schoeber | “San Diego”; AJ Roberts | “Unlocking,”; Jordan Taylor | “Just Enough”; Biff Mitchell | “vacancy”; Danna Hobart | “August”; Sarah Certa | “Blueprint For Spaces Between”; Samantha Duncan | “Tiny Fruit Bats”; Lauren Banda | “Etheriality”; Emily Wilensky | “Like Ritual Reincorporation”; Chloe N. Clark | “Concealment”; Steven Myers-Yawnick | “Up and Abandon”; Megan Kellerman | “Ulysses After Supper; M.A. Schaffner |
Garrison Harper writes and writes and writes whenever the opportunity presents itself. When they’re not writing, they’re spending time with their family and every once in a while sleeps. They have some books and some published work here and there but nothing is as important as their hope you’ll fall in love with their words.