Recall Has Become an Affliction by Kari A. Flickinger - Twist in Time Literary Magazine
Recall has become an affliction. The early years are like-claws in the dark waves of rotating temples.Their gait subtracts, and twists up therein not-sleep, behind a sleep-mask I am told is supposed to assist. What matters withers, like a thirty-six-hour-old death-bloom, corpse-flower, I have lost traction with the winged crowd. I expand to strained myth and shrink from familiar fingers. I cannot stand touch, the smalls of home. I need immersion in the salt of unknown skin, it is a sickness. This timid eye-glassed owl fed strange affections to the ravenous beast chewing on her sensory core. Years of unfolding as paper envelope with too-wet glue turns the body into mache mush, into unbelievable mountain floating in a speckled vacuum. Home, reduced to a floating blue marble below, with hope he moves from parietal to hippocampus, marsmemory. He whispers, what is round may roll away. ____________________________________________________________ Kari A. Flickinger was a 2019 nominee for the Rhysling Award, and a finalist in the IHLR 2018 Photo Finish. Her poetry was published in Written Here, Riddled with Arrows, BHP, Door-Is-A-Jar, Ghost City Review, and Mojave Heart Review among others. She is an alumna of UC Berkeley. When not writing, she plays guitar to her unreasonably large Highlander cat. Find her: @kariflickinger.