top of page

 

Vasospasm: Instructional

                                          Melanie Tague


Step One

Clap your hands, clear the air.

Something will levitate here

before turning against gravity and

disappearing. Blood will bubble,

muscles will turn to stone.
 

Step Two

Gyrate hips, forgetting is bound to

get sloppy, make your teeth grind,

and eyes roll. Understand

the complexity –biting lips

while smoke defies 

pressure.
 

Step Three

Trace the shapes of you and me

with the point of your toe

onto wooden floors. Let your mind

raise your glass 

to the ashes until only rocks 

remain.
 

Step Four

Beeping won’t stop while blood

drips. Scoop the soot, breathe

it in, turn your lungs black,

discard all pebbles. The convulsions

of flames will dissipate. I will. 

The smell of matches

will stick.
 

Step Five

You may wish to return –step

through cobwebs, watch the black

from across the room. 
 

Caution

Everything will be taken.

Melanie Tague is a 2nd year MFA student at George Mason University. She currently serves as the Assistant Editor for So to Speak and as a Managing Editor at Stillhouse Press. Her poetry has previously appeared in journals such as burntdistrict, Weave Magazine, and Rappahannock Review.

 

© 2017 MILK JOURNAL

  • Wix Facebook page
  • Twitter Classic
bottom of page