SOME CALL THIS SELF DEFENSE by Kelli Allen It’s corrosive, the mirror, some face dying in snow thick enough to bury luggage and your lover, both. So, what does looking publish about the mysterious ticket that is you, a wound, a drink, a body? Understand that it is painful work to stitch inertia and hours and talent into skin vulgarized by what you think you inherit. Come money, come time, come hands, all unremitting even when you lower your arms, clear the steam from glass, whisper hurry backwards into the rising, rising fog. Gyroscope Review - page 44 !