Margin / Mitosis
Martian fishbones leak, leech
off to startle a meteor. You’re lost —
past freezing, past that thinnest layer
of protection, the scrim
that should be, but no. Gone.
I snag, grab, can’t cast loose.
Can’t parse your slimmest hints,
scales and salt promises. Look
through the Very Large
Telescope. Look again,
mass evaporation — and don’t tell
what happens in the lens.
The beginning: such bang and boil
and the difference
between cell and cell,
me and you. Listen
to our chorus of division —
we seek light, that vagabond fossil,
among the junk, among
spines fathoming freestyle.
heather hughes hangs her heart in Boston and Miami. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in journals such as Bad Penny Review, Cream City Review, Grain, Gulf Coast, Hinchas de Poesia, Jai-Alai Magazine, and Vinyl. Sometimes she can be found making inky letterpress messes. She MFA-ed at Lesley University and ALM-ed at Harvard Extension. All her tattoos have wings.