by Maggie Wolff
She Mer Her on a Monday
Erasure of Charlotte Brontë’s Villette
I was irritable excited
the moment approached
A bell tinkled.
The bell tinkled again. I had to speak
the very first words.
bright lights, the long room
black beetles, the old boxes, the worm-eaten
speech
my tongue got free, and
my voice thought of
nothing
listening, watching
she observed
a certain fondness
glances
I followed
her eye, her smile, her gesture, and discovered that she had
singled out aim for her
arrows –
quiet but
intent
Poet Maggie Wolff (she/her) is a poet, essayist, and Ph.D. student in English Studies. She won an AWP Intro Journal Award for her poetry, and her work has appeared in Hayden’s Ferry Review, Reed Magazine, Juked, New Delta Review, Painted Bride Quarterly, and other publications. She is the author of a chapbook, Haunted Daughters (Press 254).
Gulf Stream Magazine 