(I), Ellipse. B. Ingrid Olson

One image, slid. Something like cleavage, crumpled, diminishes into the groin. One image, synthesized. She is hard, interstice furling interstice, a puzzle. Subtext collects in the fold’s foil, crisp as sentence fragments. In this metonymical correspondence, nouns are driven from a preposition’s destined object, creased into obscurity. See legs open, become proscenium. See mirrors fluoresce, become retinal. See arms cradle, become parenthetical. Dashed to discarnate slices, (un)equal measures spark and smoke, her parts are rayed or slithered into obliquity: navels, fingerprints, the chatoyancy of a rarely sighted eye. Mannerism detaches from pose in this body beaded by avoidance. Irregular focus sees ellipses fingered, leaving us to perceive every pause. Gemmed with notice even through seeming absence. That’s the pull. And the kicker, too.