Behind Perfume, Only Solitude

Ink will come. Lamp lung
breathes light at the edge
of an idea. The edge
an idea, also the door

of the room
that silence opens.

The pen sighs, a lens
for the shut-in light.
Breathe me, light.
Have the idea to have me
.

–Liz Waldner

I was introduced to Waldner’s poetry through an essay by Joan Houlihan at Contemporary Poetry Review.

Advertisements