To Sun and Sappho

I want to live like a lit body. Limbs visible in the dead of

night to a nocturnal man. To lips praising the length of fire

and hands miming an ode to sun and Sappho. I will never know

how to spin and stand. No Aphrodite resides in my nesting place.

Just the world’s caprice and my soaked feet. For a moment I

gather her golden chickpeas, in seconds of kissing, a touch heavy

enough to fill the earth. Body opening like a spring umbrella. What

is the right way to accept an offering? Bow like a dandelion

in the thick red rain. At dawn, there is a skinned rabbit in my bed

and I know a heart sunk is a heart extinct. Memory is the bone

chewed in the haste of the feast. I live in the age of analogy: I am

a tiger pacing in wait. I am a sparrow on the last flight. A fox amongst

millions. We must pause. We must be vigilant for signs of love.

 

 

 

 

About the Author

Ashley Renselaer is an author, poet, and artist from Culver City, CA who attends high school at Windward School. Some of her recent work has appeared or is forthcoming in the Lily Poetry Review, Lunch Ticket, Bindweed, The Loud Journal, and Passengers Journal among others. She has been recognized in The Live Poets Society’s High School Poetry Contest, the National Scholastic Art & Writing Awards, and the New York Times. She believes in the transformative and cathartic power of storytelling creating a vision for the future while appealing to hearts and minds. In line with those beliefs, Ashley has founded and serves as Editor-in-Chief of Words & Whispers Literary Journal.

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