Tongue my dress like goddess
whisper. Lick the milk lazy or lie in rust
still panting delirious petals—tell me
the incubator we live in has blown a fuse
or that tomorrow, my daughter will wake up
inside the canyon walls I secreted
her inside until the world’s oxygen supply
is replenished. Tell me if you like syrup
on your pancakes, do my scales
make your fingers itch? Please don’t cry
when you see her wedged in limestone,
loosen the ribbons in her hair & lift
her into your wings, fly to the farthest diner
& drink black coffee, primrose, promise?
Sam Gennett obtained a Bachelor of Arts in English from Lewis University. Her first chapbook, Schadenfreude, was published by dancing girl press in 2018. She currently edits for Witch Craft Magazine and resides in Chicago. She enjoys succulents, horror films, and unevenly bleaching her hair.