By Meg McManama
On my back,
I wring my fingers up
through the chicory,
and pray the sun pirouettes
a little longer on my skin.
I wring my fingers up
through the chicory,
and pray the sun pirouettes
a little longer on my skin.
But I hear Adam crying.
So here I go again
with my knife, halaling.
Thank you, Lord, for the goat
being so calm.
So here I go again
with my knife, halaling.
Thank you, Lord, for the goat
being so calm.
And here’s some
blood for Adam’s
hollows and cracks.
blood for Adam’s
hollows and cracks.
I bathe off in the sea,
pocket a pearl from the bottom
of the water. On my back I hold
the ocean and it holds me.
Meg McManama is a PhD candidate at the University of North Texas and has an MFA from Brigham Young University. Her pieces are published or forthcoming in The Pinch, Citron Review, Cimarron Review, Western Humanities Review, Inscape: A Journal of Art and Literature and elsewhere.
