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September 7th: Poetry by Abigail Sims
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A love letter from Charybdis They do not make room for women like us in this world— Loud, ravening, swallowing-up word water I strip bones sinking to the seafloor, crack hips in the crashing surf. Oh, lady, their fear-scent, sweeter than kisses on the mouth— We do not need teeth to feast on their fatness! All the sea sinks into me; rich, warm, teeming never—just there, almost, yes—quite enough. Voracious, vast and wide. Let us rumble, let us howl, let us devour all their young men down like cattle cloven-hoofed. Lean-jawed, teeth-and-snarl, beloved appetite: snap your six jowls heavy with sailor-meat, heave that sunny, sinuous flail marking death. Open his mouth with your baying— I will fill it with seawater! No, they do not have any room for you and I, sister, so we will take, and take, take; until we swallow up the world and there is nothing left but hunger and us.
Poetry by Abigail E. Sims
Abigail is an emerging writer. She currently daylights as a content-wrangler for a technology company in the great city of Austin, Texas, and spends her free time playing with snails or swords, depending on the day. Her work has previously appeared at Beyond Words, Sand Hills, and Gris-Gris. You can find links to all of the above (and more) on her website, abigailesims.com. Abigail can be found on Twitter at @potentialyeti.
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