self-portrait from the past|ure

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Look at me. I am happy as a farmhouse. An- imals will take their pick of me and I will be grateful.  Clouds  in  the face of my   river. Corn  in  my  sky.  I am sun bursting  honey. I am bulging  with  glee.  Won’t  you tender- take  me  cross  the  green  and show me where the ivy meets  the  rocky  lane.  Anything to see  my  sprawl.  Speak  to  me in wriggling tones to tenderize the meat. Look please|d| before cloudcover  has  its  way.  All 4 limbs and  head  a  star  I  g|r|aze  at  closed-mouth hugs above. I hum the things that live out-side.  Hum   the   things   I’ll  be  inside.  Lining all my under-ribs. All this I am:  a space to keep spare animals fed. A weight acknowl-edged in its pouring-out. Joy to be the thing lacks  a  clear-cut  belly; a  thing  without  a  door that wholly shuts.

self-portrait from the past|ure by Sarah Cavar
Photo used under CC.

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About Author

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Sarah Cavar is a student and writer of indeterminate gender, who will receive their B.A. in critical social thought from Mount Holyoke College in 2020. Find their work in The Offing, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Sweet Tree Review, and elsewhere. They blog at sarahcavar.wordpress.com and tweet @CavarSarah.

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