A Love Poem

by Amanda Beth Peery Ms Green isn’t any good with love poems or tokens, doesn’t like small, easily lost objects. So she wants to give him her visions—for example the wedge of park & slim streetlights shattering in shallow rainwater like swarms of bottled fireflies or clusters of leaping stars. She wants to give him her gratitude for life itself: darkness broken…

A Poem About Breathing

by Amanda Beth Peery In a tight skirt her breath is bounded by zippered cloth– sometimes ugly, Ms Green’s thoughts flit like light on a wall through rain and through the apple tree swaying beyond tied curtains. Sometimes ugly, her thoughts pick shallowly at ideas all day give endless minor critiques in tiny handwriting. What…

Two Poems

by Amanda Beth Peery She tips her golden watch up her wrist to wash the soap's extra speckled sponged white drops, left like a sea substance foaming across rocks or some mysterious ice, from her own unshelled, soft winter-pink wrist. When did her hands become aquatic, not impervious to water and the callous scrub but…