Here, in Iceland, the faces are flat.  One detects family resemblance but not regret.
The face asserts indifference to wind and betrayal.  No matter that she cut the ropes.
No matter that the ship drifted. 
A flash of teeth signals the foreign-born
who cannot lean on likeness.  The smile concedes, I am stranger.  I set my features
into a polished surface that does not pleat at the sight of others.  My face is burnished absence.

About Eva: Eva Heisler grew up in Boyds, Maryland.  Presently, she lives in the Rhineland-Pfalz region of Germany where she teaches for the European Division of University of Maryland University College.  Before moving to Germany in 2006, she lived in Iceland for nine years, researching Icelandic art and drafting the poems in Reading Emily Dickinson in Icelandic, forthcoming from Kore Press. She has poems in the current issues of Bellingham Review and Otoliths. She was the recipient of the Poetry Society of America’s 2011 Emily Dickinson Award.

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