Holly Lyn Walrath
You danced barefoot in the weeds
on the bones of our mothers
in a dress they wouldn’t approve of.
I am seeking you in the blood on my tongue
in the rims of shattered bottles under bridges
in the blossoms of storm clouds in summertime
in the songs of cicadas swarming.
If I could just shatter pieces
of me spread through the galaxy
maybe I could find you more easily.
But I am lost in the forest of your
memory where the stars are all blotted out
and I wouldn’t recognize the constellations anyway
so I turn and drive south but all roads
lead back to the hurt locker
of my lust.
In my dreams, you are the burning cross
do you remember sitting on the back porch
counting fireflies and sipping moon
shine poured into mason jars like wine
and you caught their light in your teeth
and between your eyelashes
and under your fingernails.
It burns, you said, it burns.
Holly Lyn Walrath’s poetry and short fiction has appeared in Strange Horizons, Fireside Fiction, Daily Science Fiction, Luna Station Quarterly, and elsewhere. She is the author of Glimmerglass Girl, (Finishing Line Press, 2018). She holds a B.A. in English from The University of Texas and a Master’s in Creative Writing from the University of Denver. She is a freelance editor and host of The Weird Circular, an e-newsletter for writers containing submission calls and writing prompts. You can find her canoeing the bayou in Seabrook, Texas, on Twitter @HollyLynWalrath, or at www.hlwalrath.com.