tell me the history of giving up
build sand castles out of my ashes, yeah,
blow me away
all my tiny holes speak vacancy speak no escape
coaxing me in, out with dim flashlights
all my pathways, vacant hallways
whisper the origins of submission
into my hillsides shovel soil onto my poised face
pull the plug on my overripe tub
take a seat on the ceiling of my overcast funeral
worship my miracle sweat
pay homage to my molding breasts
spit into my red dirt
marvel at my vulture children
yank on my ribcage, release my floating organs back to the wild
tongue my lips’ violent threading
my neck adorned with scarves of
sad animals and root vegetables
and plum and burgundy flowers
shame igniting my joints,
throbbing my kernel throat
suck the rotten me off my bones
pick them clean the aftermath an underdressed stained to
be inhaled.

Savannah Slone is a queer writer who is completing her M.F.A. in the Pacific Northwest. Her poetry and short fiction has appeared in or will soon appear in Glass: A Poetry Journal, Crab Creek Review, FIVE:2:ONE, Pidgeonholes, decomP magazinE, Crab Fat Magazine, Pithead Chapel, Hobart Pulp, and elsewhere. She is the Editor-in-Chief of Homology Lit and the author of HEARING THE UNDERWATER (Finishing Line Press, 2019). She enjoys reading, knitting, hiking, and discussing intersectional feminism. You can read more of her work at

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