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Ex Libris

by Megan Harlan

Here is the fossil as a perfume. Here is a bone
picked clean and whittled into a tiny tall ship.
Here are magicians teaching secrets
to contortionists. Here is colored glass on fire.
Here is love broken into vowels and a shrug.
Here is scripture forged into the memory of water.
Here are rosettes, exposed wiring, teasings onto the brink.
Here is the full vista of an hour, and the sun.


Megan Harlan’s poetry appears or is forthcoming in The Beloit Poetry Journal (reprinted on Poetry Daily), The Laurel Review, Puerto del Sol, Nimrod, Sycamore Review, and Bellingham Review, among other journals. She lives in San Francisco and regularly contributes book reviews and travel features to The New York Times.

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