W. F. Lantry
received his Licence
from the Université de Nice
, an M.A. in English from Boston University and a Ph.D. in Literature and Creative Writing from the University of Houston.
He is the recipient of the Paris/Atlantic Young Writers Award.
His poetry has appeared in Gulf Coast
, Autumn Sky Poetry
, The Chimaera
and The Tower Journal
He serves as the Director of Academic Technology at The Catholic University of America in Washington, DC.
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The Möbius strip may be produced by giving a narrow strip of paper a half-twist before attaching its ends together.
Forget, a moment, everything you know:
that music travels forward, that you’re one—
a single bounded entity—that time
moves on in sequence. Gaze into her eyes
and let her limbs encircle you. Now lace
your fingers and your flesh, becoming her;
watch as your shadows merge. If you prefer
you may imagine smoke swirling around
itself in this still room where candlelight
plays on the woven pearl strands you’ve caught
between your merging forms, now undefined
by light or air converging from that flame,
and disremember even your own name.
Now, lost within her energy, sublime
articulated harmonies surround
these intricate entanglements, this knot
of vortices that spin in reckless guise
of offering: the musicality
of cycles turning on themselves. Agree
to be her sacrifice, to let her find
in you the eyes to give her, changing, sight
as witness to her transformations, done
with your free acquiescence, let her trace
the coursing of your veins as her tableau:
forget, a moment, everything you know.