—after B. Mayer
As for me, when I saw you
you were in a tale
dreaming maybe of Catullus’
cuticle moons in America
On Friday morning
all the girls dream the same dress
approach it slowly
with an eerie repose
Our thoughts make an iceberg
A woman is not a series of events
on which we can throw no light
Our clothes form an empire
The mutinous color of a pool
A woman scattered in space
As for me I’m ruthless
the lesson of the lemon grove
lettering a cloud as your voice combs
through the tiniest chink in my phone
Julia Wohlstetter’s work has appeared in Metatron, Bodega Magazine, The SILO, and The Chapess Zine. She is a graduate of The Independent Publishing Resource Center’s Poetry Program and holds a BA in French and Photography from Bennington College. She is the author of the chapbook “Please and Please”. She lives in Portland, OR.
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