Swell

by Sarah Soderborg

When I thought I could absorb their prayers I became a sponge.

I settled in among the Porifera, the pore bearers.

I squeezed lemons into my hair to make it blonder.

I sucked honeycomb with my high school sweetheart

and with every kiss on the forehead I swelled.

 

Now, I keep accepting drinks

until I’m saturated with warmth,

until there’s no such thing as being wrung out.

 

I hit the bottom of a cup and take a breath:

health and beauty, please,

forever and ever amen.

 

 

 

Author’s note: “A line is a moment, and I think each moment in a poem should reach completion. What completion means is often made apparent only in the poem, not before it. In this way, a complete moment must be aware of the poem as a whole. It reflects a knowledge of each other moment in the poem by doing its own unique work.”