Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Issue Thirty-eight
Summer 2015
Julie Rouse

When I say this the sky behind you explodes.
Delicate pilots jellyfishing from planes note
the force of buoyancy equals the force
of your gravity. Toss a box of matches
into the air and see how many strike, alight.
My dream of planewreck last night was visionary.
I woke hovering. Serious burns can peel the skin,
wrapped as we are in bandages until we see
through to our youngest, our pre-selves. I burn
myself on purpose to peel away the blisters.
I dunk my hand in cool water. I fall in
love but we cannot be together because I am
a firebrand and you are my cancer
and your cool waves put me out.

About Julie Rouse

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