Issue 8 | Winter 2011


Because she was the first
I did not know it as familiar,
how quickly the body takes in
a different kind of breath that is
the beginning of a different kind
of breathing that will not change
back again. Pulse changes, shifts,
blossoms in that surge of rose-
red blood, and the skin I wore
darkened, flushing
from that first sight of her.

Filed under: Poetry