Backscatter

Rian, United States

Juvenile, the way lips wet the knuckle,
how beak and feather fetch laughter from my

pit, when the weight of legs are no longer
freeing. It must be youth that purloins woe

from my pores, folding skin over into a page
of names. Finger to cheek and, foreign to my

own texture, I mistake feeling for touching.
A dip above the jaw reminds me of a greeting

departed into absence; vowels trickle into open
air, riding the draft of a breath and a half until

pavement bites mouth. Goodbye becomes native
tongue, making loss the easiest part of remembrance

because when sunset tucks her legs onto the
highway, I admit I don’t miss the sound of anything,

I loathe the creases. Endless: remains flaked onto
a scalp of tendrils and stalks of childhood, time

for embrace, bracing for the time my hands grasp
an absent body. Let me tell you a story of recovery.

Mother melted gold into my ears each night,
our pores would overflow in the morning onto

tile floors. Once noon hit kitchen counter, her hands,
blistered red, would collect the aureate into a sigh.

This piece was previously published in INKSOUNDS.

Hour of Cockcrow

We spent the night kissing until a
new sky broke itself open for us:

crimson affection hung quietly over
hills and settled within the valley.

You pressed yourself against every
place I ached and when I led you

to my chest, I could feel chapstick
brushing against the pulse of my

heart. Underneath flesh & marrow,
red rhythm was re-aligning itself to

the beat of your breath. You pulled
back and I saw the eyes of the girl

who had reddened her mouth with
blood from my feet, pulled scabs

away with her teeth so she could
make me curl once again. But you

wouldn’t touch my face, not even
to taste the salt because, with lips

webbed, you whispered only boys
cry when touched. The sun peeled

itself for me, shedding golden
layers onto hardwood, and I stilled,

bit myself before I had to tell you
why I never wanted to be a man.

Rian is a student residing in Illinois. She is a Iowa Young Writers' Studio alumna and enjoys collecting cards.