by Colleen Reynolds
Found my handwriting the other day
in a wrinkled scan of Joyce Mansour’s
a stain I don’t remember leaving
between “cancer” and
“dust in my mouth”
The tragedy of desire:
when you see your mother look at your father,
and you see a woman loving a man
loving the air at the ends of his fingertips
and yours learn
to grow callouses.
The cursive grew small and
staggered at the end,
as if to hyperventilate
a warning I missed from my hand
to the corner of the page—
prepare for impact.
Colleen Reynolds is an emerging poet and a graduate from Boston College, where she studied English and Sociology. She was a finalist for the 2017 Princemere Poetry Prize. She lives and works in New York City.