Advice from a Siren | Shari Caplan
A Metaphor a Girl Can Be
Girl can be white stones warning
turn back: his want will eat you up
in the darkness of your room.
In your grief his thumb, his thumb in your grief.
Am I a girl red as lies, loving
nothing better than to claw a shoulder?
I slather my voice in juice, see how it drips
into men’s hands and men’s hands?
Girl can be all cherry or too much pit,
so I’ve been told.
My sister is a girl a glass mountain.
TOPPLE ME her sign reads.
Mark blue splotches up the spine, conqueror.
Girl can be lost in the fault of her own meadow.
We read her Snow White, Cinder-Soot, college parties.
His lock in your car, you’re locked in, his.
Am I a girl a caught swan
alive only when alone - when the feathers
of my consciousness belong to myself.
Girls have keys on foreheads
greedy greedy men can see.
A girl can be a metaphor for.
The reed the receptacle
hears the world blowing through it,
the world blowing through it,
never its own singing.