we, in the rear view mirror
the rear view mirror tree trunks,
rebirthed post-forest fire. the whale spout
ball caps. protruding bills.
dressed in wildflowers. dandelion
cadavers ablaze. we are the herbivores
of the creeks. the rubbery bodies with masking
tape for joints. we are our
salty fingers. our fistfuls of lye.
chastity belts fashioned
from thick lace.
rosemary palms, praying
hands’ friction sparks.
Savannah Slone is a queer writer who is completing her M.F.A. in the Pacific Northwest. Her poetry and short fiction has appeared in or will soon appear in Glass, Crab Creek Review, FIVE:2:ONE, Pidgeonholes, and elsewhere. She serves as the Assistant Poetry Editor for Boston Accent Lit and is the Editor-in-Chief of Homology Lit. Her debut poetry chapbook, HEARING THE UNDERWATER, is forthcoming with Finishing Line Press. She enjoys reading, knitting, hiking, and discussing intersectional feminism. You can read more of her work at www.savannahslonewriter.com.