Sharon Wang


Sometimes, there was a screen, through which it was possible

 to see all things:

                        the crests, the troughs, the strange

oases in which moss could would lick the body, rear to neck,

and there would be some rupture; a sound, perhaps,

a slab of light that slid through an opening and worked its way in,     

hardened and whole, clarified—

                                                so for a moment,

we’d be jolted, I and the other, looking in the back of the glass

to find what could be seen out of the corners of the eye,

a shadow through a cataract:

we saw the world first through a slit

then we were the aberration




I imagined two women who are ghosts to each other; they live in parallel universes and are aware of each others' presences but cannot directly communicate, choosing instead to speak to the reader in alternating monologues.