by Denise Bossarte
Daily Awakenings
I have been finding puzzle pieces.
The first was small, blank —
under river-birch roots, caked in
dandelion seeds. Innocent.
Since then, one or two a week have surfaced.
Large as my hand, small as a dime,
blue with teeth, red as dawn —
they cannot be unfound.
I tried to throw one away,
only for a copy to burn itself into my palm.
I burned another, woke up with it in my mouth.
They are beginning to melt together.
A nine-tailed devil. An angel —
an Other, hands iced over, gripping
Venus by the poles.
Molten bronze from a mouth like dew.
She is missing only eyes now.
Draped over the mirror, she leans in —
anticipating my daily awakenings,
my domestic terrors.
I have started offering her tea.
The pieces stopped a month ago.
She seems to enjoy mint.
Bradley Peterson is a father, therapist and teacher from St Paul, Minnesota. His writing explores the absurdity of being human in a natural world – and is thrilled to see his first publication in print.
Denise Bossarte is an award-winning writer, photographer, and artist based in Texas, USA. When she’s not immersed in writing, she turns her lens to the world around her, exploring visual spaces with a keen eye for the unexpected. Her photography captures the powerful imagery that can be found in unusual places. She enjoys writing, exploring new art forms, and teaching contemplative photography workshops. She lives in Texas with her husband and literary cat, Za’ Ji. https://www.linkedin.com/in/denise-bossarte-phd-39975841/.