At the party the body of the young man makes me look I look The lean uninflected flesh of the belly This casual skin Men looked Now I look The boy dives in the water, then otters back, smiling at me He doesn’t know that bodies can empty like jars He doesn’t know that I… [Read More]
Amy Newlove Schroeder
Strait
the day goes by piecemeal shroud-light in the afternoon twisted wire face in the mirror your name carved on my collarbone I am a woman now ragged cuticle, flaking lip skin a dry cracked dirt road my hair a noose around my neck & skin like muslin soaked in blood I am what you made… [Read More]