Measure of Luminosity

Annabelle Yeeseul Yoo

Anyone can learn to dance if only for a myopic hand
Leading the shellacked pistol. The cavus feet flex. A break
In the surgical curtains reveals a little bit, a killing

Of flight with anchors. Under conditions of duress, I become
Lighter but no longer weightless. It takes a slight insanity to think
You can teach it. Spirit, turn on. In a furious Turkish birdcage,

1000 tame deer. Red sky closes in on the strange house.
Prayer wheels reel along the clothesline. Here, we’ve learned
To kneel without grief guiding us. Here, people are

Mirrored in clawfoot bathtubs. The motherless among us.
A distinct loping sound. A hawk circling is a signet, as it is
A freedom. Nothing is brittler, not for the breaking.

Annabelle Yeeseul Yoo
Annabelle Yeeseul Yoo

Annabelle Yeeseul Yoo’s poems appear in such publications as LIT, Denver Quarterly, Boston Review and Western Humanities Review. She hails from New York and holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Columbia University, where she was Poetry Editor of Columbia: A Journal of Art and Literature. She is also a recipient of the 2009 “Discovery”/Boston Review Poetry Prize and a summer 2010 residency at the Saltonstall Arts Colony.