Second Place Winner: Sue McIntyre Venus de Milo I dreamed I was Venus de Milo and the telephone was ringing. I just stood there wondering who was calling, and I thought to myself, "Hey, It's okay, I just have to stand here and be amazing and historical and people will love me. I don't have to do anything." It was a bad dream. My arms have been suffering mishaps lately: A teakettle burn, tendonitis, and a really awful spider bite: Just when I get them back to working order, another accident happens. But I know, there are no accidents. I guess I could get all Freudian and say I'm grieving subconsciously as my children enter adolescence, and nobody needs to be carried or cuddled anymore. Maybe it's some kind of Venus de Milo envy. I'm literally disarming myself in mute testament to my impending redundancy. My son got braces on his teeth last week. Every night he needs me to help thread dental floss under the wire so he can get to the gaps farthest back. I reach up to touch a face that's so close to turning away I can taste it, see eyes still so trusting... But these moments of needing in definable ways have an expiry date that I never noticed before and my arms ache for the sureness of something I can carve into stone, the sweetness of a need that once overwhelmed me. But I miss it now it's gone. The phone's ringing and my head is turning to marble and I'm frozen knowing there's still so much I could do. Used to be there were bandaids, and polysporin, and cookies and hugs and silly songs to fix hurts and help smooth bumps. Now it's more complicated, requiring a kind of listening I'm not sure that I'm able to learn, and a hope beyond hope I'll be able to answer, even when I am a statue, helpless to help another. My arms have been suffering mishaps lately. They're scar-crossed, paved with bruises and unnaturally empty. Like Aphrodite I turn and turn, seeking not to escape the blows, but only to know what it is I am meant to next. Back to October/04 Winners Home