portion of the artwork for Vivian Eyre's poetry

Late Interiors
Vivian Eyre

How many stars align as postage stamps
affixed to a swath of night? Decipherable light,
siphoning through some leather punch.
Nothing needs doing, no need for oars.
Everything arranged by interior night.


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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 31 | Winter 2011