little song, quickening
Aroace Girl with Kettles and Cradles
I make space for everyone and for every man’s anger
like lead in milk I know how to be invisible even to myself
come morning I’ll be girl again
but tonight I’m unchurched jawbone chewing sulphur from
a match for every time I’ve smiled in spite of
I shut out the mouths of everyone who wants
to feed from whatever teat they can find on me
I bow in a kitchen fulminated to such unfamiliar light
I tear my lips off so no words soften
my spine to salt—I slide my hand down to cradle
every name for the extinction I pull from between my thighs
loving no one but myself
I am so unconscionable
a heart boils in the belly of every kettle screaming like a baby
I will arrange all my locks
of hair on the floor and call them my periods
severed from the ends of sentences for people
all I’ve grown just to cut away
KELLY WEBER is the author of the forthcoming poetry collection We Are Changed to Deer at the Broken Place (Tupelo Press) and the forthcoming chapbook The Dodo Heart Museum (Dancing Girl Press). Her work has received Pushcart nominations and has appeared or is forthcoming in The Laurel Review, Brevity, The Missouri Review, Cream City Review, Palette Poetry, Southeast Review, Passages North, and elsewhere. She holds an MFA from Colorado State University and lives in Colorado with two rescue cats. More of her work can be found at kellymweber.com.