Jul/Aug 2023  •   Poetry


by Stephanie Karas

Photo Art by Michael Dooley

Photo Art by Michael Dooley


Come to me as you are,
between bruise and bloom.
This shallow gaze is a cage,
leaving you as a harvest ready for reaping.

Show me the ritual:

Mornings of stale blueberry
muffins, a dead bee draping
the windowsill, eight hour
workdays, weekly grocery runs.

Show me the swell:

In a toothpaste specked mirror,
a body distended with digest
marshmallow flesh and striped dress
that no longer fit your frame.

Show me what aches:

The southern drawl of a number
that doesn't call anymore. The listless
phone scroll on empty evenings.
The snare of a waning body.

Show me desire:

Hands sticky with sweetness
like a scene already written.
The way you tend to the stalk,
all lavender and lure.

Show me surrender:

Come to me after the frizz
of a busy day. Leave the window
open. I am a leech latched to your
sequined smile. Let me beg;

this is what it means to be dismantled.