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GLORY DAYS by cassidy black

i've got enough glory to go around the block three times
but i haven’t made it that far yet

drive the knife deeper into the muscle hot and quick
red wonder protects me from living too freely

watch the blood sing with the water in deep vibrato
weapons used by our fathers in the night

tearing at nectarine meat from the organic market
juice shining on my skin and my teeth like the sun

in a room full of poets our edges blurred into hairy legs
unraveled and iced coffee sweat

what we allowed ourselves to hold un-secret in time
bleeding out onto open blank pages

the last time i fell this hard facefirst into concrete
the doctor sutured me back into place

we spoke of summer ripe with yellowing bruises
so often we were fifteen and alive

Cassidy Black (she/her) is a nineteen y/o small-town poet, libra sun, and postcard collector who has lived in the same yellow house her entire life. Her work has been published in Rising Phoenix Press, and she has performed at Poets House, NYC.