By Nancy Hightower

The turbulent wait

as my breath erupts in

ecstatic gasps.

I dream of you

draped in aurora borealis,

stars swathed around your belly.

The sky hardens, cracks into

Pleiades     Orion     Andromeda.

My fingers stroke your throat,

still your voice is silent, dust-dry.

The sunset melts into amber,

trapping me in the thrum

of the sparrow’s heart.

My hands keep working the clay.

I see your eyes beginning,

the rise and fall of your chest.

When will you finally look

into my face and live?



Nancy Hightower has published short fiction and poetry in journals such as storySouth, Gargoyle, Prick of the Spindle, and Word RiotKinds of Leaving, her short story collection currently under submission, was shortlisted for the Flann O’Brien Award for Innovative Fiction in 2014. Currently, she reviews science fiction and fantasy for The Washington Post and was featured in the 100 Top Creatives feature in Paul Miller’s Origin Magazine. This summer Port Yonder Press will publish The Acolyte, her first book of poetry.

Comments are closed.