poem index


Sarah Vap

by this poet

There, behind sunlight,

is the long pressure
of a child's love. Becoming mute

with the child's love. Long influence of stars touched
by the hand wrapped, asleep,

in the newly laundered sheets. Touched 

to widths of butterscotch
stretched. Split-apart as the voices, rain thickening,

against one another
her body's customs
with things

he requires
that she shave
not like a girl

his passing

imagines her own

it's nothing, though

she just climbs out
of the forest
forearms swollen from horseflies,

her eyes swollen—
smears him
on her body, not knowing
how she intends
to live.

So shows
him something—