by Sloane Scott Louise Bourgeois/Fine Art America What is the shape of this poem? If it contains some burning. At the end of many red-orange threads there is a torment I tug on in the hopes of beginning, and I start unraveling the capillary action I’ll propel it with as you are picking a light that will not guarantee. This is revenge you’ll resent, although the hour to do so has ended. The clock is pushing us forward into day’s lighting. Here and now I am finding the sky is l