Glassblower by Gary Leising

Lover, lithe little body,
blown-glass brittle girl, ball globe
glowing in the fire, spun
straw to the end of Hephaestus’s
mouth. Little limp away
to land above these depths,
heat-proof apron heavy
like lead dropped on you
in dental chairs, the x-rayed
execution before brittle teeth
taken and drilled, filed, and filled,
fixed, formed, and blue-glowed
into their own gowns,
little statues arrayed
on the lintel of your gums,
sentinels strategically guarding
the source of your air,
the wind that blew the glass
globe, blue heat melting/
sizzling in the dark,
cold, elemental planet pool.
Gary Leising is the author of the book, The Alp at the End of My Street, from Brick Road Poetry Press (2014). He has also published three poetry chapbooks: The Girl with the JAKE Tattoo (Two of Cups Press, 2015), Temple of Bones (Finishing Line Press, 2013), and Fastened to a Dying Animal (Pudding House, 2010) He lives in Clinton, New York, with his wife and two sons, where he teaches creative writing and poetry as a professor of English. Twitter: @garyleising