Poetry from Cassandra Carter

Elegy for the Undead

I.

Contour flesh fresh
again. Dust vanilla
silk in the rotten
vein canyons. Finger
dew into the left
of your mouth,

All that is left
of your mouth.

II.

It has always hurt.
The devouring.

You have always
hurt me wholly.
Absolved shame with
hooks and fingernails.
Kissed my ribs into
feathers, winged them
around my shoulders.

This hurt is new.
Unfamiliar in our
stomachs. It gnaws.
It swallows. It thirsts
for different oceans.

III.

I found your ring
finger in my hair.

Contemplated my
nails against it.

Opened my chest
with – for it.

Slept
with you inside.

IV.

You no longer
stop at skin.

You no longer
spit me out.

V.

I lick myself back
from the left
of your mouth.

All that is left
of your mouth.

I cannot be
your tongue,
your snapping jaw,
the fresh right of you.

All that is left
of you.

.

 .

Cassandra Carter is a graduate student at Oklahoma City University’s Red Earth MFA. She has been published in Hot Metal Bridge, The Donut Factory, and Razor Literary Magazine.