fulgurite
poems by Isabella Zellerbach
would you die for me he asks when there is nothing
between us but skin & sweat as we exhale
chest to chest too hot too tired to do much more than lie there
wine & resentment spilled on sand separating us
i laugh not even if you promise to stay
he traces my bottom lip with two fingers
& i feel the fading indents where i bit down while he was inside me
he remembered his wife cursed his friends for inciting
this union so i refill his cup & promise peace if he lies
with me awhile longer
•
pothos
lover may i wait for you comfort you hold you close
when you call me & tell me you fucked her
may i hate you love you pray you come back
when you show me rings you plan to give her
lover have i listened to you shown you anger given silence
when she rips you in two as you thank her
have i danced with you cried with you tasted you
in those half-guilty minutes before we splinter
lover will you
comfort me pray for me listen to me
will you forget me
please release me
when i pull the threads weaving our history & allow them to
unravel
Isabella is a writer with a focus on the culture/superstition of a Mexican household and how that relates to sexuality, gender dynamics, and grief/trauma. She is a graduate from Johns Hopkins University with degrees in Writing Seminars and Political Science. She is a Flash Fiction Reader and Assistant Creative Non-Fiction Editor at Homology Lit. Her work has appeared in Anti-Heroin Chic and Honey & Lime. You can find her at @izellerbach on twitter or https://izellerbach.wordpress.com/.