On Longing             

                    based on the painting On The Contrary by Kay Sage

This is the room I paint the color of sadness.  These the crates I seal.  The pale boxes.  I nail them shut and shut.  The box that contains the redness of your lips.  Box at the bottom of all boxes.  Another crate I secure that if opened would release the cedar scent of your skin.  I bend the anticipated touch of your fingertips into a thin triangle of blue metal.  It refuses to stay boxed.  It teeters over the open floor out of reach.  Out of my reach.  Earth’s most adored brown, the color of the ivy stem which she allows to wind and curl around all things—the tallest oak, the strongest bricks.  Brown with its succulent striations the color of sea.  That is the brown of your eyes.  I have struggled that brown into one box.  I have pounded that box with spikes. This box, on the very top.  Closest to the opening.  The opening without doors.  The opening where the sky is wild with the color of sage.  Color of rage. 

Carol Berg has poems forthcoming or in Artifice, Fifth Wednesday Journal, Pebble Lake Review, blossombones, qarrtsiluni, Melusine, and elsewhere.  Her chapbook, Ophelia Unraveling, is forthcoming from dancing girl press. She has an MFA from Stonecoast.  Her web-site is located here:

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