march 2007

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Grave Robbing

by Julianne Mattelig Vince
 
 

                                                            Let us go then behind

                                                            gothic iron fences matted with ivy and weeds

                                                            and roll in the damp, mossy, crab grassed grounds.

                                                              Let’s chafe our skins,

                                                                peel our layers and allow them

                                                                  to settle into dust

                                                                    under the black angel.

                                                                      There we can lie naked

                                                                        and drink

                                                                      the parted dreams of those

                                                                          beneath us.

                                                                    Their names read only

                                                                      by our fingers tracing

                                                                              cold granite.

                                                            Let’s enjoy some sweet autumn night

                                                              smother the moon in our hair, in our eyes

                                                            Let’s bathe in our breath

                                                                                   our smell

                                                                                    our music

                                                                                     our words.

                                                            before I have to read your stone with my fingers

                                                                          or you have to pass mine

                                                                                        guiltily

                                                                                 from the highway.           

Julianne Mattelig Vince was born and raised in the Midwest. She graduated from Northern Illinois University. After freelance writing in the Chicago area, she moved to Los Angeles and wrote for the Studio City Sun. After Hurricane Katrina, Julianne moved to Lafayette, LA to be close to family and friends. She lives there now with her husband, three cats and her dog.

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