loving her
pale moonlight blooms on the hardwood
floor of the home I call
us
me, a honeybee, over-saturated, drowning
in a sea of suppression, liberated by the gentle
hands of you,
my beekeeper
humming in tune to one another’s deep,
endlessly celebratory breaths
the vinyl spin of your mermaid song,
chicory tucked tight into your mane
shaking hands with myself for the first time,
unveiled my eyes to self
saying goodbye to the bottled-up pariah
when the weight of ignorant perspectives
seems to wilt—
fading into the abyss
that I’ll never swim back to.
Savannah Slone is a queer writer who earned her B.A. in English: Professional and Creative Writing from Central Washington University and is completing her M.F.A. in Writing at Lindenwood University. Her poetry and short fiction has appeared in or will soon appear in Manastash Literary Arts Magazine, Creative Colloquy, Heavy Feather Review, Boston Accent Lit, PaperFox Lit Mag, The Stray Branch, The Airgonaut, Ghost City Press, Sinister Wisdom, and decomP magazinE. Savannah lives in Skykomish, WA, where she works a handful of part-time jobs and cares for her toddler with autism. She enjoys reading, writing, knitting, hiking, and talking all things intersectional feminism.
|