poetry

No Rules
by K.V. Skene

It's as if you could say anything here, do nothing and it would not matter— the glass is cracked, the curtain torn, the gold is fool's gold, the seven-league boots yours till you grew tall enough to touch the sky— the perfect place to jump from, fall down from. Believe a straight line between here and there and you die— no giveaway maps, no rules for in-between. Rivers are there to be crossed, rapids run, wolves shot, mountains moved. It's only the ordinary miracles you end up praying for.

K. V. Skene's work has appeared in Canadian, US, UK, Irish, Australian, and Austrian magazines. Her latest book Love in the (Irrational) Inperfect was published in Canada by Hidden Brook Press. She currently lives in Oxford.