you won't come back

by Nicole Mason

to that creek with the sluggish brown water that swells up each spring and recedes as if sipped from old bags of toilet wine God won’t find you in the cornfields where the soil hides the smell of the Dawn you use to wash your hair your clothes your bare feet that run with dogs through this copse this  orchard this dirt road sometimes you  find  a  fortune teller sleeping in the barn sprawling naked body in the hay foam  lichen you throw her quarters harvested from your mother’s purse she eats them up quick and claps slow her big toe points to the creek that winds around the fields silver in morning otherwise not she says you’ll be famous when you’re sucked down in April the sun  high  and  cold your girl-body floating a blue raft for  crows  their wing-span marking how long you played by yourself crouched in the thin shade of the willows counting ant trails sifting sand through the inexplicable equation of your fingers beating each movement of your sad songs to the jays the rabbits the sky you won’t come back and that’s a fine thing for a dead girl to do

You May Also Like

The Wet Body

Returning the whale was soso still It did not complain when I crawled inside with my one can and my no candle The mouth the humid mouth was like a tunnel of warm sponge I thought A whale is smaller from the inside I thought This is what my heart would look like from the middle

Stand Her Ground

his gun // memory of steel bars // the plea // his gun // her self-defense // his reaction // her end // his gun // any being cornered will fight back // & her teeth already dull from repeated use