My body changes,
I lather up my own history
over and across,
a waning river pulls down.
The rocks are silent as guns,
never shoot. I’m unzipped.
I’m tethered, I’m the bride in black.
My wet boots keep
my feet stomping around
an earth we can’t give them
anymore, where are you
Goddesses? No lace, no sequins,
really, no desire to mate.
We’re the tree and the roots,
take it down, fashion a table,
lay him down. Payback
with tiny needles, keep it legal, legislate his body. But let it bleed.
Sarah Lilius is the author of the chapbooks What Becomes Within (ELJ Editions, 2014) and The Heart Factory (Black Cat Moon Press, 2016). Some of her journal publication credits include the Denver Quarterly, Court Green, The Fem, Bluestem, Tinderbox, Hermeneutic Chaos, Stirring, Luna Luna Magazine, Entropy, and Flapperhouse. She lives in Arlington, VA with her husband and two sons. Her website is sarahlilius.com.