When mother told me I was born with a body instead of a bear trap
I think what she was saying was that I rather lacked the teeth
and the temperature that I stood to inherit from her
I imagine it must have been rather a disappointment to discover
something which was begotten at such a devastating cost
might dare reveal to be so very unlike herself
But I found my sharper edges in time.
This made her happy, I think.
When at seventeen they found me half gone
in that bathtub, I think she fancied me a person
like a snow globe, who only became more appealing
the more life shook me up.
We have a chicken, a fox, and a sack of grain.
Nowhere we go is safe.
What I mean is that someone once taught me
to either kill it or leave it, and it is a wonder how far your feet
can carry you away from the things your hands
can no longer bear to hold.
What I’m trying to say is that loss is a plant life
which springs eternal in innumerable forms, rising to greet me
from every crack in the sidewalk.
When I’m finished gnawing these vines off of my ankles,
I’m going to circle your block in a long coat.
I’m going to climb the highest hill I can find.
And I’m going to hang the moon, just for you.
And it will all be worth it
to finally hear the wolf cry girl.
Come morning, they will be able to see him pacing
head bowed in the overgrown garden of an abandoned
school, distressed and wondering in what form
I might wane his way tonight.
Cierra Lowe-Price, 2022