Dr. Matthias Ripp CC
not / holding
isn’t marriage / a corpus
a body / to be warmed / by my own
not a ribcage / riven in the valley
not a felled tree / for someone / to straddle
for something / to wash over
isn’t tenderness / a libation / for skin’s / bedazzlement
a river’s / flanks to be grazed / by my own
not a bright / fish
not a crucible
impossible / to hold
Self-Portrait as Seed, Plow, Prophecy
Because I do not know how to be feral,
sowing what can save the world
because I do not know how to feather
a nest or make a peace that will last.
I try to break open my mouth like first light.
Because I do not know how to honey
the storms or thistle off grief
because each day begins again
without cloud, without reprieve.
I let the throat be seed, plow, prophecy--
because I do not know how to unwind
the spell whispered in my ear.
Sandra Fees has been published in SWWIM and Nimrod and has work forthcoming in Witness and Border Crossing. She is a 2022 contest finalist in Sweet: A Literary Confection and semifinalist in Crab Creek Review. The author of The Temporary Vase of Hands (Finishing Line Press, 2017), she lives in southeastern Pennsylvania.
Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.