Mouth
By Esther Altshul Helfgott

That's all
I see
of her now.
The wide open
hole
that never
closes. A
tunnel
of
darkness
too dry to
enter.
No one wants
to anymore,
anyway.
Except
me.
I want
to
climb in,
tongue
the periphery,
fill
the hollow.
Moisten
her
until
she glistens
again.

Originally published in a different form in
She Speaks: Seattle Women's Caucus for Art Newsletter, Winter 1997