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Tuesday, December 26, 2023
Outside of You By Kika Dorsey
The Rising Phoenix Review posted: " Outside of You You have installed the salvage-yard door, its oak sandedand stained beneath your hands like a preened wing. I never meant to leave, nevertheless lock you in, but here I amin the middle of the Colorado plains, drinking the sun, grass " The Rising Phoenix Review
You have installed the salvage-yard door, its oak sanded and stained beneath your hands like a preened wing.
I never meant to leave, nevertheless lock you in, but here I am in the middle of the Colorado plains, drinking the sun, grass
and yucca and crown vetch at my feet, a smidgeon of a dream where I stepped between a glass house and a lake, and I chose
the water. I turned to it and entered, hips rotating with my stroke, those very hips you set into stone, you planted as the bed of a garden
full of kale and tomatoes to feed us and two-by-fours boxing it in. You see, the rusted steel of the front-end loader is our color,
tawny and amber, and it stands ready to clean out the ditch before opening it like these May daffodils. You see, I ask you
to not tell me you're enough because you aren't. I know good and well I'm not enough. We can stand in the still
center of what may be a storm; we can find an inner peace and surely the gods would comply, the ghosts of our mothers
sigh with relief, but to strive and be more is the handful of mud, its minerals, on the bottom of the lake, which I smear on my face
before the emptiness, before the wind. Only my eyes are naked, roving where the coyotes hunt, where the hawks build their nests
on cottonwood trees alongside the ditch on the plains that envelope me. I am grateful for sight, for doors, for thresholds where I can meet
myself again and again, where rust becomes ink on my lips, where what was used becomes new, as we ourselves do every day,
and the metal beams, glistening silver, support the walls of the glass house we will enter so instead of each other, we look outside.
By Kika Dorsey
Biography:
Kika Dorsey is a poet and fiction writer in Boulder, Colorado. She has a PhD in Comparative Literature and her books include the chapbook Beside Herself and three full-length collections: Rust, Coming Up for Air, and Occupied: Vienna is a Broken Man and Daughter of Hunger, which won the Colorado Authors' League Award for best poetry collection. She has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize five times. Currently, she is a lecturer at the University of Colorado in literature and creative writing. Her novel, As Joan Approaches Infinity, was published by Gesture Press in 2023. In addition, she works as a writing coach and ghostwriter. In her free time she swims miles in pools and runs and hikes in the open space of Colorado's mountains and plains.
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