by Rachel Rubino
Just tell me, child: when deceit counters defeat,
Where will the feet of your two soles stand?
I have felt the cool blade of duality
From your hand, pierced in both familiar places
And upon foreign land. Here, where the edge
Of black ink ebbs into the grain of white paper.
Where the words connect to form meaning,
Floating free from the resolute tip, preening flesh fickle
Through ensnarement of the wanderling lip.
From the heavy-lidded day unto the awakened night,
Lady of the Equinox waltzes, her forces in full flight.
I have seen her veiled visage bare, her shadow in the light.
But still, I wonder—how her gray grace remains indifferent
To the complementary phases of the day, and of the night?