it begins with innocence/ but also ends the same, I think/ likea kiss caught in a fist/ or/ maybe a string knotting rib bone andpalm together/ motion like heartache, a slow separation/ ormaybe the truth is something different/ entirely/ because notall songs are meant to be sung/ this/ I know, entirely/ possibleto defend stolen hours in front of an alter/ crudely made, a placeholder/ because something is/ there/ coiled up in darkness/like the snakes inside my skull/ an idea of knowing/ of droppinglike a rock underwater/ pressing against my wrist, here.
Rachel Small (she/her) writes in Ottawa. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in magazines, including Thorn Literary Magazine, blood orange, The Hellebore, The Shore, and other places. She was the recipient of honourable mention for the John Newlove Poetry Award for her poem “garbage moon and feminist day”. You can find her on twitter @rahel_taller.