Reading ScriptPaula Mendoza-Hanna
Asp coil risen, eats a helix. Spiral aria hewn by the tongue's split reed. A queer threnody whorls in the wet bore of my throat. Riven ox scapula from reddest meat. I am first lamb born to surrender vellum. Ink raised. Invoked, the name spelled backwards. There, blotted. Tattooed counterfeit by your hard hand that presses the nib's tip through, to thatch and purl verse—welts—I run the heel of my palm across. Thralled, I parse your glyph. Your obelisk perplexes. You: pitched tine to my forked tune. Between me: You. Cleft note, and what's spoke.
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