matina stamatakis

  This peel,
  innards of fruit
  skinned to resemble
  my mother's face after she slipped
  under the knife--
  found little girls inside
  screaming to come out.
  Of this light there is a strange sense
  of urgency to be a zombie
  without brains,
  or working organs,
  or gizzards that resemble
  unused paperweights
  (one lump, two)
  *  *
  My mouth is warm enough
  without a victim,
  without mom
  who looked only after bandages
  to peer into broken glass.
  * * *
  If you see the world clearly,
  you're looking through the wrong mirror.

«±  ±»

matina stamatakis is the editor of a new magazine, Venereal Kittens, and is currently working on her MFA.  Some of her works have been featured in: Zafusy, Eratio, Cynic Magazine, Can We Have Our Ball Back?,  Albany Poets Magazine, and is forthcoming in: Coupremine, Word for/ Word, and Elimae.  When she is not writing, she enjoys spending time with her son and enjoys traveling.




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